


wait for me to come home

by abyssith



Category: Game Grumps, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Apologies, Arguments, Beware, Break Up, Canon Elements, Crying, Cuddles, Dancing, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Plot, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Game Grumps - Freeform, Gifts, Heavy Angst, Hurts So Good, Jealousy, Kisses, Language, Light Angst, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Men Crying, Music, Open Marriage, Open Relationship, Public Display of Affection, Sadness, Semi-Canon Compliant, Semi-Graphic Smut, a shitload of crying, but i'm not tagging details, fuck it, let's do this, nevermind the crying there's way too much kissing, sick cuddles, this story gets pretty fucking sad, wow literally so many kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:43:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyssith/pseuds/abyssith
Summary: “I love you, too,” whispers Dan, and it’s the most genuine thing he’s ever said in his life.





	wait for me to come home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [093119](https://archiveofourown.org/users/093119/gifts).



> Song: Photograph by Ed Sheeran
> 
> (updated and recommended version of this fic can be found in the end notes of this story)

_loving can hurt, loving can hurt sometimes_

_but it's the only thing that i know_

_when it gets hard, you know it can get hard sometimes_

_it is the only thing that makes us feel alive_

 

**i. dawn**

_Come to my office. I want to talk to you._

The words pulse behind Dan’s eyelids, clouding his mind, filling his head with thoughts when all he really wants to do is think about himself. People are talking all around him but he doesn’t hear any of them; his eyes dart over the walls and over his screen even though he’s not absorbing anything at all. He mentally reviews the email over and over again until he’s mouthing the words without even meaning to, and that’s when he decides he should take a little break.

“I’ll be right back,” Dan announces, grabbing the armrests and peeling himself off the leather chair. Brian twitches, a little startled, but just nods, looks back down at the computer, and continues working.

He pushes the chair into the desk and hastily makes his way through the office, his heart pounding in his throat. He’s nauseous, but not for the reasons one would think. He knows what the email’s about, he knows why Arin wants to see him alone. He’s seen the worried glances he’s been getting thrown when his friend doesn’t think Dan can see him. All those searching gazes. And yet he’s afraid, for some reason, to vocalize his problems. Even to Arin.

He passes Suzy, who says to him without any need for explanation, “He’s free to talk for a while.”

“Great,” is all Dan says back.

He really doesn’t think at all as he traverses the office; his feet know where to take him. In fact Dan actually spaces out for a couple of moments and is mildly shocked when he finds himself in front of Arin’s door so soon. He purses his lips, suddenly itching to turn tail and run. He never wanted for anyone to find out about this—and he certainly doesn’t want to tell Arin. But only because he’s selfish and guilty and has too many empty and bad thoughts for his own good.

A heavy exhale rushes over his lips as he closes his eyes, raising his hand to knock on the door. It opens ajar when his knuckles land. Dan blinks, surprised, and looks inside, seeing Arin through the crack in the door. The younger man turns at the sound, and a look of something like relief passes over his face.

Dan slips in, his anxious stare cast downwards. “Close the door behind you,” Arin tells him, turning back to his computer. “I just need to reply to something. Gimme a sec, okay?”

Dan only nods, grabbing the doorknob and using it to push the door closed. He glances up at Arin against his will, finding that his eyes stay on the outline of his friend’s lips and nose for a second longer than normal when Arin doesn’t notice. But he turns away soon enough, working on slowing his heartbeat and making his body work with his brain. He winds up stretched out on the love seat and his arms instinctively reach for the pillow that’s always there. He hugs it to his chest and buries his face in it, breathing in deeply and letting his eyes shut briefly when its scent floods his nostrils. It’s the smell of Arin, of beer, of that sharp cologne Dan’s always telling him to stop wearing but secretly craves and steals a whiff of every time the man passes by.

A creak makes Dan draw back, still holding the pillow just as tightly but without the immersion. Arin is standing up from his chair, his eyes skimming a printout in his hands. But then they flick over to Dan and the paper is forgotten, tossed on his desk as Arin walks over. He sits down at Dan’s feet, making the older man quickly draw his knees up. He looks at Arin for a second before glancing away, a strange heat spreading in his gut. “So,” he says, his fingers squeezing the cushion in his hands.

“So,” Arin agrees, scooting closer and propping his arms on Dan’s knees. Startled, Dan straightens and stares up at him again. “Will you tell me what’s going on? You’ve been quiet for, like, a week, man. It’s getting me all worried.”

Dan doesn’t answer immediately. A little lump sits in his throat. “Yeah,” he responds, wincing at his voice crack. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I just want to know what happened to you—did someone hurt you? Is there someone I should kill?” Arin cracks his knuckles and exaggerates a murderous face, drawing a laugh from Dan. He cracks a grin, but regains the solemnity within a couple seconds. “Really, Dan. I’m just…concerned.”

“I know.”  
When Dan doesn’t talk again, Arin sighs and nudges his legs until he swings them over the edge of the couch and sits properly. He moves over until his right thigh and Dan’s thigh are pressed against each other and he’s able to sling an arm over the thinner man’s frame to draw him in. Dan tilts his face towards his friend, biting his lip and shuddering when Arin’s warm breath tickles his nose. “Talk to me,” Arin says softly, leaning forward and staring at Dan with big round eyes.

Dan’s mouth twitches, only keeping level with Arin’s gaze by some miracle. “It’s nothing,” he says, still finding that he’s too ashamed to admit the real reason why he’s so sullen. “I promise I’ll get better.”

“No, no—that’s not enough,” Arin insists, his grip on Dan getting firmer.

Dan purses his lips and finally breaks the eye contact, closing his eyes momentarily to let the unexpected rush of security wash out of him. “But it’s stupid,” he protests, his voice dropping into the pout of a child.

“I don’t care. You know I don’t. You can trust me, Dan. If you don’t—if you don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t. I promise. I keep promises, you know that.”

Dan sighs. “Yeah, I do.” He’s quiet for a long second, and Arin keeps watching him, patient and affectionate and sincere all in his eyes. “It’s just. Ashley.”

Arin doesn’t miss a beat. “She broke up with you.”

“Well—yeah.” Tears well up in his eyes at the sharp declaration. He fiercely blinks them away. “Yep.”

Arin sees the sadness before Dan does, and suddenly Dan’s crying into his shoulder and probably sniffing and getting his shirt all dirty and wet but Arin doesn’t care at all. He just envelops Dan with his bear hug and tight arms and face pressed into Dan’s head, rocking them slowly back and forth and whispering things that Dan can’t hear but can feel—oh, he can feel them all. It’s sweet and it’s sad and God, it’s so touching. Because Arin lets him cry and cry and cry and he’s just _there,_ and that’s all Dan wants from him. His heart cracks sometime along and the pieces stab at him under the surface of his skin, emphasized by the time that Dan had tried to hold himself together. It’s like the snap of a rubber band, harsh and quick but the pain still lingers. And it only seems to spread but Arin still holds him, and something about his touch makes the pain better. It becomes more dull, more muted by the sensation of Arin drawing circles into his back, and Dan chooses to concentrate on that rather than the unbearable sadness pumping from his heart. 

He inhales, he exhales. And slowly, slowly, the pain disappears all together. A powerful feeling pours in to take its place, surrounding his heart like syrup and making it easier for Dan to relax. He thinks it has something to do with the person holding him. It gets stronger and stronger until finally the tears get a break to dry. And Dan just holds Arin, breathing into his neck.

Finally Arin says something legible, ten minutes later, while he’s combing Dan’s unruly curls with one hand and massaging his lower back with the other. “She didn’t deserve you.”

“I know.” It’s more of a hiccup than an actual remark.

“You’re totally better off without her.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be okay.”

He hiccups again. “Okay.” He hugs Arin tighter, twisting his fingers into his shirt. “Okay.” A big cough. “I’ve done this before—I shouldn’t be crying like this—I’m really sorry—”

The swell in how tight Arin is holding him effectively cuts him off because Dan really does still need to breathe. “Don’t you fucking dare apologize for having emotions, Danny,” Arin whispers furiously, his lips brushing Dan’s ear as he talks swiftly, passionately. “Don’t you fucking dare. You’re human, you get sad, you hate people, you cry. Okay? You’re allowed to have feelings, _especially_ after a break up.”

“But—it was only half a year. Barely,” Dan gasps, still struggling to find air.

“Who the fuck cares? You cared about her.”

“I didn’t love her, though.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Probably.”Dan draws back at last a few seconds later, temporarily embarrassed by how he must look but realizing he probably shouldn’t care because Arin doesn’t in the least. “But. I really love you.”

Arin furrows his brow, evidently surprised. Redness bursts in his face. “Where did that come from?”

Dan frowns, shrinking into himself out of the instant fear of the rejection he hadn’t expected at all. A second wave of tears threatens to crest. “I—I just—”

“Stop. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” He hesitates, for once being the one to have to glance away. When he returns Dan’s gaze, sheepishness is written all over his expression. “I love you too, Dan. More than you know.”

The heat blooms again. This time, it’s in Dan’s face.

 

_-_

_-_

_-_

 

_we keep this love in a photograph_

_we made these memories for ourselves_

_where our eyes are never closing_

_hearts are never broken_

_and time's forever frozen still_

 

**ii. sunrise**

He never expected that holding hands with someone could get him blushing so bad. Especially considering that he’s done it thousands upon thousands of times, and that particular person is Arin. 

The younger man had reached for Dan sometime within the first half hour of the movie and hasn’t let go since, squeezing his hand periodically at just the right moments. Every time he does, it brings a violent rush of blood flooding into Dan’s cheeks, and his head gets so light and fuzzy that he temporarily forgets about the movie for a few long seconds and has to ask Arin what had happened. Arin answers him each time, gazing steadily into his eyes, with a little knowing quirk in his smile that makes Dan embarrassed since he clearly knows what’s up.

Right now Arin has coaxed Dan into putting his head on his shoulder. Dan’s somewhat glad that the theatre is mostly empty, but not because he’s ashamed of being with another man. Rather he’s still trying to get used to being the more shy one in a relationship. Arin hasn’t kissed him directly yet, but in this one first date Dan has already received multiple cheek pecks that have all sent his heart jumping into his throat.

“Danny,” Arin suddenly whispers, making Dan flinch in surprise. “You know what’s going on right now or are you distracted by my overwhelming attractiveness again?”

“Shut up,” Dan hisses, glad Arin can’t see how red he can get Dan to be with just a few words and a smirk.

“But you still think I’m attractive, right?”  
Dan pauses, and then turns his head and pushes his nose into Arin’s shoulder. “Of course,” he mumbles, muffled by Arin’s arm. “You handsome hunk of meat.”

This incites an abrupt bark of laughter from his companion, and Dan has to quickly clamp a hand over Arin’s mouth because the outburst drew a few startled and quite irritated stares, which proves that the pair, indeed, are not alone right now. Dan doesn’t meet any of the looks, only releasing Arin when they disappear one by one. “Oh my god, Arin,” Dan groans quietly, turning his head again so he can see the screen. Shit—it’s one of the more emotional parts of the movie. No wonder those people got so mad.

Arin snorts and rubs his cheek into the top of Dan’s head, kissing him once. “Just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“You’re such a little shit.”

“I’m _your_ little shit,” he points out, releasing Dan’s hand just to remove the armrest separating them before proceeding to hug him with both arms. “Remember?”  
“I most certainly do.” Dan breathes in and out, finding that the warmth is more than relaxing. He settles into Arin’s side, slipping his arms around his waist, and closes his eyes, not caring one bit about the movie. “Although I’m not sure how.”

He senses Arin looking down at him. “What do you mean?”

Dan pauses before answering, “Oh—I don’t know. It’s, um. Well.” Suddenly he wishes he hadn’t opened his mouth. He’s always had a bad habit of doing that. But, he shouldn’t be nervous to say what he’s about to, should he? “I’ve always really liked you? For, a long time?”

“Oh yeah?” muses Arin after a couple of moments. “How long is a long time?”

“Ah—um. Two…three years?”

Dan can feel the shock pulse through Arin’s body, and the hands keeping him close flex and impulsively get tighter. Arin’s voice is undeniably deeper when he replies, “Three—three years, wow. God. And you never told me? Shit, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, don’t be,” Dan quickly interrupts. “It’s fine. I was…pretty happy, you know, with who I was to you, and stuff, but I never really. Stopped wishing. Or trying. And so the fact that you…like me back? Love me back? In—the way that I truly did? Do?” He sighs and chuckles a bit, swallowing back the sharp increase in giddiness that hits him out of the blue. “Wow. It’s just…crazy.”

“Fuck, Dan,” Arin whispers. “Yeah, of course I love you. So much. I’ve told you: I always have.”

Dan looks up at him for the first time since Arin had embraced him. Through the darkness Arin’s eyes shine like bronze in the constantly shifting light of the screen—what movie is playing, again? “I love your eyes,” Dan breathes.

Arin smirks and bends down, bringing their faces close. Dan inhales, shivering, and feels like he can get drunk on Arin’s minty breath alone. “Just my eyes?” he smiles.

Dan opens his mouth to speak, but freezes up without getting a single word out. Arin had closed the distance, fastening his mouth gently around Dan’s. His hands travel farther up the older man’s body until one’s around his neck and the other one is tenderly cupping his cheek, bringing Dan’s face up for a better angle. 

Dan personally cannot move at all, the only movement having been in his eyes when they closed the second Arin kissed him. All he can hear is his heart, the blood in his ears, the faint sounds Arin’s mouth makes against his. Something strong and terrifying and beautiful all at the same time is twisting and churning in his stomach and in his chest and manifests itself in Dan’s face and rapid breathing. Eventually his hands figure out what to do and he shakily reaches up, grabbing Arin’s shoulders and dragging him in farther.

He can tell by the way Arin is moving that he wants to take it further, wants to kiss Dan harder, but some last shred of self-control is keeping him from doing it. Maybe it’s the fact that people might get notice and get annoyed again. However, this theory is disproven when one of Arin’s hands disappears, and the man shifts in the kiss, trying to fish for something in his jacket pocket. Dan wants to ask what he’s doing, but the desire to pull this miracle of a moment out as long as he possibly can is much stronger. So he focuses on what he’s doing, focuses on how soft Arin’s lips are and the little mustache bristles tickling Dan’s nose and the barely noticeable touch of his long eyelashes on Dan’s forehead—

A bright flash of light right behind Dan’s eyelids surprises him, ripping him from Arin, and Dan pulls back before he knows what he’s doing, inhaling sharply and turning wildly to find the source of that light. He only realizes what had happen when he realizes Arin is laughing hard and doing a poor job of hiding it, holding his phone in selfie mode in one hand. A picture of the two of them kissing and Arin staring lovingly at the side of Dan’s face is plastered on the screen, but Dan doesn’t see it through his uncontrollable blush and the volume of the loud buzzing in his head. He’s also focused on the people turning around again, complaining incoherently (what kind of luck do they have, with the only other group of people in the entire theatre a row or two in front of them?)

“Arin,” gasps Dan, not sure whether he should laugh along or slap the other man. Arin is still clutching his stomach, covering his mouth as he tries to control himself. “What did you—why did—I thought we were having a moment!”

“We were, I swear,” Arin says, panting for breath. “I didn’t know the flash was on, though. Fuckballs.”

“Keep your voice down!”

“Okay,” responds the younger man, dropping into a low hush. “Is this better?”

“Much,” Dan sighs, tilting his head and giving Arin a playful glare. He knows he can’t pull it off very well, though, judging by how hot his face still is and the smile that he can’t seem to wipe from his expression and the way Arin’s eyes twinkle down at him. “So, wait—”

Arin turns his phone off and pockets it, leaning forward to bump noses with Dan and effectively removing any hints of actual anger he may have had towards him. “Just wanted to capture the moment, baby,” Arin murmurs, kissing the corner of Dan’s mouth. “You’ll thank me later. I promise.”

Dan had stopped listening to Arin since he said _baby._ “Shit. Okay. Absolutely.”  
“Do you forgive me?”

“Yes.”

“Is it still crazy?”

“Not as much,” Dan answers after a moment’s thought. “But…I think so. Yeah. It sure is.”

Arin gives him a lopsided smile. “And do you still like only my eyes?”

Dan laughs despite himself and holds Arin’s face, rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. “Yep. But I also like your lips.”

 

-

-

-

 

_so you can keep me_

_inside the pocket of your ripped jeans_

_holding me closer 'til our eyes meet_

_you won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home_

 

**iii. starlight**

Dan finds himself staring at that selfie for an absurdly long time, mesmerized by Arin’s eyes fixed on his face and how comfortable they both look, like they’ve been together since the beginning of time. In reality, at this point, it’s been only a few months, but they’ve been the happiest few months of Dan’s entire life. Countless more of these same moments have been made and hundreds, dare say Dan, of similar selfies have been taken, either on Arin’s phone or Dan’s. Any of the ones Arin took are sent to Dan within the succeeding two minutes. And on nights like these, when Dan is alone and Arin is miles and miles away, it’s those pictures Dan takes comfort in.

_“I’ll be back in a couple of weeks,”_ Arin had said, kissing Dan between the eyes and then his nose and lips. _“I still have a wife, y’know?”_

_“Of course,”_ Dan whispered, tilting his neck to the side so Arin can stroke his jawline with his thumb while he kissed the side of Dan’s chin. _“You can’t forget Suzy.”_

Arin smiled at him, clearly pleased that Dan understood him. _“Text me, okay? I’ll respond whenever I can. It may not be a lot though—is that okay?”_

_“You know it is. Keep her happy, alright?”_

_“Always.”_ Arin kissed Dan one more time before pushing a strand of hair away from his eyes. _“See you soon, Danny.”_

And now Dan is lying in bed, wishing Arin wasn’t in the Caribbean, all the way across the country and then some. Every so often the stray bit of resentment at Suzy would drift through his mind, but Dan always shoots them down the second they arrive. He’s eternally grateful to Arin’s wife to clear their relationship and let them go on dates a couple of days throughout each week. Of course, she had rules, and that included the commitment Arin still had to her. Their anniversary, naturally, overrules any plans Arin and Dan may have happened to make, and Dan knew that Arin had to celebrate it. He probably would’ve taken Dan along, at least to hang out with or plan with, had he not had to attend to some Ninja Sex Party conventions and events here in California. Dan blames his bad luck, but even he has to admit that it’s probably better off this way. Suzy is still one of his best friends, even more so now that he’s dating her husband and she’s okay with it. She’s more than entitled to her time with Arin without Dan to interrupt.

Still. It hurts, and Dan just has to learn how to cope with it. So his phone has become his savior, and he feels like he had looked at every single picture of him and Arin together as a couple at least five times by now. He exits his gallery and stares at the messaging app, his thumb hovering dangerously close to it. He had tried so hard to keep himself from texting Arin since he left, and he’s mostly succeeded. The only exceptions were a few texts scattered throughout the last four days, and the conversations didn’t last very long. Dan had forced himself to keep it short and let Arin focus on his wife, but right now he finds he can’t bring himself to actually care.

He looks at the time. 11:48. _Which means it’s…2:48 in the Caribbean,_ Dan thinks, twisting his jaw. Would Arin still be awake?

Even if he may not be, Suzy certainly isn’t, and that’s good enough for Dan to convince himself to try. So he taps on iMessages and opens up his conversation with Arin—the first one in the list. 

**You awake, big cat?** Dan texts. Then, knowing that he probably shouldn’t expect an answer anytime soon (if ever), he closes the app and opens YouTube. A compilation that someone had made entirely consisting of Game Grumps moments when either he or Arin had acted really gay towards one another before they had openly revealed their relationship to the public is already up and in the process of being watched, and Dan hits play without any sense of the guilt he had for so long nursed when viewing one of these videos. He’s able to get through another three minutes of the video before his phone suddenly vibrates in his hand, ringing with a new notification.

**sure am. what are you up to, babe?**

Dan draws his shoulders up, accidentally dropping his phone onto his chest when he sees Arin’s reply. “Holy shit,” he whispers, his entire body wracked with shivers of excitement. He taps on the notification and lets his fingers fly across the tiny keyboard. **oh my God, Arin, fuck. that scared me.**

Arin replies within the next ten seconds. **_you_ were scared? I didn’t expect any late night messages. I almost woke Suzy up.**

Dan licks his lips, happy that no one will ever see the grin stretching from ear to ear. **well, I’m glad you’re here.**

**you miss me, right?**

**obviously.** Then, completely on a whim, Dan adds, **wish you were here…**

Arin jumps on board immediately, saying exactly what Dan hoped he would. **in bed with you?**

God, Dan wishes Arin couldn’t make him flush this bad. And it’s just a text, too. **Yes,** Dan responds, trembling harder and harder with each letter.

**JUST in bed with you?**

Dan actually nervously giggles out loud, flipping over onto his stomach to continue talking. **careful, Arin.**

Arin doesn’t back down. Dan can almost hear that voice through the next words he sees—that husky, sly tone that always rises in pitch on the last word. **do you wish I was doing anything with you in bed?**

**God, Arin, stop!**

**maybe…hugging you? kissing you?**

**that would be nice.**

**but we’d be naked.**

Dan has to put his phone down and cover his face, making unintelligible sounds into his palms. **you’re with your wife! she’s literally in the bed next to you.**

This time Arin takes a little more time to respond. **yeah well, I have time for you too. cmon. just entertain the thought? pls?**

**I only want to sleep with you** , Dan replies firmly, his head still caught up in an airy daze. **nothing else.**

**fine. maybe next time?**

A noise that resembles a choked warble squeezes its way from between Dan’s teeth as he answers seriously, **possibly…**

**good enough for me.** A second later: **when i come home you’ll get to fall asleep in my arms.**

Dan’s heart expands to fill his chest twice over. **that sounds beautiful. I can’t wait.**

 

-

-

 

_loving can heal, loving can mend your soul_

_and it's the only thing that I know, know_

 

**iv. thunder**

“Stop…Arin, that tickles…!”

Arin frowns and pushes the blanket a little further underneath Dan’s chin, pulling another loopy giggle from the elder. He refuses to budge even when Dan pushes at his arms, trying to worm free of his limbs. “You’re so fucking sick, Dan,” he sighs, squirming closer to the figure lying next to him. “How did I let you get like this?”

Dan hiccups and looks up at Arin, trying in vain to think straight but failing miserably. Normally he’d be so much better at controlling himself and his words, but the codeine circling through his veins only gives him the capacity to think one thing: _Arin, Arin, Arin._

“You’re so pretty,” slurs Dan hoarsely, reaching up to touch Arin’s short beard. “Such a pretty baby.”

Even Arin can’t resist smiling and blushing as he places a hand over Dan’s and nuzzles into it, kissing each of his individual fingers. In his drugged state Dan still finds that he is fully capable of losing himself in Arin’s presence, especially when he kisses him. He closes his eyes and smiles dumbly when Arin slides down into the blankets, turning onto his side and supporting himself with his elbow. The corners of his eyes crinkle with an affectionate smile as Arin chuckles, “I wish I was recording this right now.”

Dan lifts himself off the bed, trying to say something, but only an eruption of coughs comes out. Arin’s eyes widen and he lightly coaxes Dan back down, keeping a hand on his chest for emphasis. “Lay down,” Arin murmurs, his face hovering just a few inches away from Dan’s. “Do you want something?”

“Mhmm…” Dan hums.

Arin leans back, cocking his head to the side as he gets ready to get up. “Yeah? What can I get you? Water, some crackers, your phone—no, no, not your phone. You need to relax.”

“You.”

“What?”

“I want you,” clarifies Dan, reaching up and opening and closing his hands like a toddler. “Please?”

A short burst of laughter explodes from Arin’s mouth. He lowers himself back down to the bed and flips over, planting both of his hands on either side of Dan’s arms. “Anytime,” Arin mumbles, keeping himself propped up while he moves down to butterfly kiss Dan’s left cheek. Dan sighs, letting his eyes close, and reaches up to hold onto Arin’s neck. One of his hands drifts up to Arin’s face and he cups the side of it, stroking his facial hair absentmindedly. 

Arin shifts from butterfly kisses to real kisses and peppers Dan’s face with them, letting his lips linger on each part of Dan’s face for a couple second before moving onto the next. He kisses across Dan’s forehead and then back across his cheeks and over his nose before finding his upper lip, which Arin pauses on for a much longer time. He kisses Dan slowly, tugging on his lip with his own and softly sucking on it. Dan’s mouth drops open halfway and a strangled gasp escapes. “Arin…” he rasps, his head beginning to gradually clear up. “Arin?”

Arin turns his head, licking Dan once more before kissing down the edge of his lips and down to his chin. Dan lifts his head weakly from the pillow, a complaint on his tongue. It never gets vocalized, though, because Arin’s mouth finds Dan’s neck. His lips are tender and confident where they touch Dan’s skin, kissing him with a hint of teeth and tongue. It’s not enough to arouse Dan, to make the heat begin broiling in his gut—no, that’s not Arin’s intention at all. Instead it dances on the fence between loving and sexual, resulting in an all-consuming sense of safety and security. Dan sighs again, biting his lip when Arin kisses his Adam’s apple, and tilts his head up for him eagerly.

“You should get some rest,” Arin mumbles against him, nipping his jaw gently. “You need to sleep.”

“No,” protests Dan, bringing his hands around Arin’s face. He tugs on him meaningfully until Arin looks at him and says, “You gotta kiss me for real first.”

“Dan, you’re gonna get me sick.”

“You’ve already kissed me a hundred times.”

“Fine. Promise to sleep afterwards?”

“Only if you stay,” responds Dan levelly with a short cough.

Arin smirks, shaking his head. “Deal.” He descends onto Dan, rolling onto his side and wrapping his arms around the thinner man’s body to pull him along. Dan falls onto Arin’s chest and hugs his waist under the blankets, feeling Arin breathe in and out under him. He is still as Arin kisses him, his love marked in every movement, every incoherent whisper. Dan does hear one murmur spoken into his mouth, though: “Tastes like cough syrup.”

Dan giggles and leans back, blowing into Arin’s face. “Grape, right?”

Arin wrinkles his nose and darts in, fastening his teeth around Dan’s bottom lip and pulling. A whimper unintentionally leaps from his throat as Arin mutters, “I’m gonna give you cherry next time.”

“I can just wear chapstick,” Dan offers, still reeling from the bite.

The younger man gives him a look that makes his knees weaken. “Nah. I still like the flavor.”

“You flirt.”

“But it works, doesn’t it?” Arin retorts, moving back in. “Especially when you’re sleepy.”

Dan trembles, feeling a hand snake into his hair behind his head when Arin brings their faces together again. Somewhere farther down the bed Arin crosses their legs, wrapping his around Dan’s. He squeaks into the kiss when a hand suddenly grabs his butt, jerking forward and knocking their foreheads together. “Oh,” Dan gasps.

Arin snickers, but doesn’t let go. In a reassuring voice he purrs, “Relax. It’s okay.” He squeezes Dan lightly, making the man flinch again, but less so. “Yeah?”

“Okay,” Dan says, little more than a whisper.

Arin hums in satisfaction and plays with Dan’s hair, using the hand on his ass to drag their bodies closer. Dan’s fingers grab at Arin’s shirt, his movements beginning to get sluggish. The rhythmic motions Arin takes begin to hypnotize him until he’s matching them without even realizing it. Even their breathing falls in time; if Dan wasn’t so distracted by Arin wrapping his hair around his finger, he would probably notice that their hearts are beating as one, too. 

A bit of tongue begins to break into the kiss, but eventually Arin pulls back. Dan is getting more and more tired by the second, and his boyfriend clearly notices. “Sleep on me,” Arin invites quietly, using his hands to get Dan into a comfortable position. The hand that was originally on Dan’s ass had moved up to the middle of his back and now remains there as Arin presses Dan’s head into his chest. “Is that good?”

Dan doesn’t let go of Arin’s waist. He turns his head so he can smell the pumpkin spice on Arin’s bare neck and only grunts in response. His chest begins to rise and fall in a slow pattern until he’s all but asleep. Hushed words chase him into a warm slumber: “I’ll be right here.”

 

-

-

-

 

_i swear it will get easier,_

_remember that with every piece of you_

_and it's the only thing we take with us when we die_

 

**v. full moon**

He dreads the inevitable knock on the door with every ounce of his being, but he just can’t bring himself to pick up his phone and tell Arin to call off their plans. The younger man is supposed to pick Dan up and take him out to a nice private sit-down restaurant to celebrate their first anniversary and that isn’t exactly something Dan can nor wants to cancel.

And yet now he finds himself sincerely wishing for a later date and cursing their luck: of all the days he could’ve had one of his rare breakdowns, it had to be today, when Dan is already dressed in a freshly cleaned and pressed tuxedo and he’s in very real danger of soiling his crisp white undershirt. The fear of Arin seeing him this vulnerable and emotional—again—isn’t as strong as his fear of ruining their special night out, but he’d still very much prefer for his boyfriend to not find a total train wreck awaiting him behind the door. How will Arin react, seeing him like this when he’s supposed to be anxiously pacing the room, brewing in excitement?

It turns out Dan doesn’t have to wait very long for his answer, because his head is still whirling with thoughts and grievances and self-condemnation and the tears are still fresh on his cheeks with Arin knocks. Having anticipated his early arrival, Dan pulls his head from his hands and calls in a raspy, cracking voice, “The door’s unlocked,” and makes a violent grab for the nearest Kleenex box, ripping out a handful of tissues and futilely trying to tidy up his face. Primarily his nose and eyes.

He hears the door open and the household is filled with Arin’s lively chatter. “C’mon, baby! You ready to go?” 

Dan straightens up from the couch, unsure of how to respond. Fortunately he doesn’t have to, because Arin fills the gap for him when he enters the living room and his eyes find the other man the second he walks in. Dan watches with guilt as all of the eagerness and life drains from Arin’s face, leaving it white and pasty, as he comes to comprehend Dan’s appearance. The apology is already being spoken before he notices what’s coming out of his mouth. “Arin, I am so fucking sorry, I know I’m gonna make us late but—”

“Sit down.”

The lack of emotion in Arin’s pointed words drives a nail into Dan’s brain, forcing him to obey without even consciously making the decision to. He hits the couch hard and falls back, shivering and breathing hard because he’s about to cry again and he really, really doesn’t want to. “Arin,” he breathes, his voice trembling.

His eyes and head follow Arin as the man walks towards him and kneels in front of his legs, placing his elbows on Dan’s thighs and grabbing his hands. “Who hurt you?” he demands in a tone that’s soft but is on the verge of bubbling over with rage for whoever broke Dan’s heart in the same exhale. It’s quiet, it’s powerful, it touches Dan in a way that takes his breath away. And it’s the exact same thing he said, one year and some weeks ago, that won his heart in the first place. Nothing’s changed about the way Arin protects him, and nothing should. He can feel Arin’s fingers stretching over his palms, subtly slipping into his sleeves and tracing over his wrists. Checking for scars.

“No one,” Dan answers, unable to close his mouth all the way. And then: “Everyone. I don’t know.”

Arin moves his fingers back down once he’s satisfied and squeezes Dan’s hands, looking relieved. He straightens up, propping a knee in front of him to gain a little more height. “You were crying. How long were you crying?” His face twitches, threatening to betray him when Dan spots a tear well up in the corner of Arin’s eye.

Dan sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, slowly, shakily. He grips Arin, a nonverbal plea for him to hold Dan tighter, which Arin rapidly acknowledges. “God, I don’t know,” he admits, looking away when he finds he can’t hold Arin’s eyes very long. “Half an hour? Maybe longer? I—I…I don’t…”

A look of distress crosses Arin’s face and he gets up to sit next to Dan. As if his body already knows how to respond, Dan leans into him and lets Arin hold him. “Keep talking,” urges Arin in a whisper. 

Dan nods, closing his eyes and struggling to keep himself from getting distracted by the familiar way Arin’s company always seems to drug his mind. “I know I’m supposed to have…uh, callouses, you know, against this sort of thing—a-and I have, I swear, but…” Dan swallows hard and makes himself confess shamefully, “It’s the hate. All—all the people—all the people who say I can’t, that I shouldn’t, that I’m awful—Arin, I-I promise I don’t listen, it’s just—God, it really got to me, I think, and it makes you really wonder, like, _what if they’re right?_ What if—what if I can’t—” Dan stops talking because a sob bursts in place of his words, and he’s helpless against its tide.

Arin almost crushes his head with his body as he cradles the skinnier man. “They aren’t right,” he mumbles, getting a mouthful of Dan’s hair. He moves his chin and props it up on Dan’s head, folding his arms around his back and neck. “They aren’t right. I know how you feel. I’ve felt it too—they make you doubt your own talent, don’t they?”

Dan sniffs and then wheezes, discovering he cannot breathe through his nose anymore. He nods against Arin, opening his eyes a bit and getting sad all over again when he notices that the front of both their shirts aren’t nearly as pristine as they once were. 

“You can’t be strong forever,” Arin continues, swinging his legs up onto the couch and having Dan do the same. With one hand he grabs one of Dan’s ankles, bringing it over his own thigh and around his waist so that Dan’s leg is encircling his hip. After a moment, Dan does the same with his other leg so as to hug Arin with all he has. It makes him feel like he’s wrapped in a cocoon, and it lends him a homey glow that begins to settle his nerves. “Everyone cries sometimes. It’s okay. No one’s gonna blame you. But please, for me—you gotta remind yourself that there’s always gonna be someone who hates you. And that’s normal. They don’t deserve you, then, in that case, so who cares? And, Dan?” 

“Yeah?” Dan whispers, unintentionally bending his back into the hand snaking underneath his shirt and into the middle of his spine.

Arin pulls his head back and brings his hands out in front of him to carefully take Dan’s face in his palms. He leans in, close enough for their noses to touch, and their lips brush against each other’s as he says in an undertone, “You’re really beautiful when you sing.”

A grateful, overjoyed smile steals across Dan’s face and he curls into Arin, hugging his shoulders and clamping his legs around his hips like a brace. Arin’s hands find their place in his hair and around his neck as custom, their bodies fitting together like the puzzle they have formed all on their own. They stay like that for a while, not saying anything and simply soaking in each other’s company. Every once and a while Arin would kiss Dan’s cheek or neck, whispering sweet nothings into his still-wet skin. Dan hears them all and locks them away in his heart, feeling his blood pulse a little faster with each word.

“Arin?” he says after somewhere around ten minutes pass.

“Mmm?”

“Are we…” Dan clears his throat, coughing out the mucus that had come from his earlier sob. “Are we still going out to dinner? Because…our shirts…”

Arin lets Dan go, allowing an uncomfortable draft of air hit the places of warmth where his hands on Dan had just been. He looks down at himself, and then at the other, and laughs when he sees just how wrinkled and dirty their suits have gotten. “Yeah, but I think I’ll cancel our reservations,” answers Arin, unbuttoning his tux jacket and shrugging it off before moving onto his tie. Dan watches his fingers move for a few seconds before flicking his gaze back up to Arin. “We can go somewhere more low-key. Unless—you still want a big first anniversary dinner?”

“I don’t care as long as it’s with you,” says Dan, reddening with his cheesy words.

Arin pauses and looks up from his tie. He studies Dan for a few seconds before grinning and grabbing his face, dragging him in for a long, sweet kiss. “Now who’s the flirt?”

 

-

-

-

 

_we keep this love in a photograph_

_we made these memories for ourselves_

_where our eyes are never closing_

_hearts are never broken_

_and time's forever frozen still_

 

**vi. sunhigh**

The room is electric with activity and chatter and excitement. People mill around, dressed in formalwear as they gingerly cup wine glasses between their fingers and shine vibrantly white smiles at their peers—specifically at Dan and Brian. The younger man laughs at the jokes the guests bring him and thank people for their congratulations before they turn to his business partner, saying likewise. But not once does Dan let go of the hand of the man to his right, whom people regularly strike up a conversation with whenever they acknowledge Dan’s and Brian’s success. Arin entices them with his stories and even brings Dan into them every once and a while, poking a little fun followed by a quick kiss on his cheek. This always leads to Dan blushing more than normal when he turns to the next person offering their praise.

Eventually everyone gets situated and the refreshments draw the attention of all, giving Dan and Brian a little peace. Arin looks up at Dan as the singer relaxes, letting a sigh and running a hand through his neatly curled hair as he sighs, “I’m beginning to wonder if a formal party was really necessary.”

“Are you kidding? The album was a hit!” Arin exclaims. “You’ve got mad talent, babe.”

Dan bites his lip and smiles, nodding at Brian when he motions behind Arin that he’s going to go off to find his daughter. “Thanks, Big Cat,” he responds, leaning down to touch foreheads with the man. “You helped a lot, too. Don’t count yourself out.”

“Wouldn’t think of it. You promised to pay me back with a nice long make-out session during the afterparty, remember?” Arin coyly teases in a seductive voice. He reaches around Dan and playfully thumbs underneath his waistband, causing the taller man to jump and slap his arm.

“Arin!” Dan protests, rubbing his face and failing to hide his expression. “When did I ever promise that?”

“Just now.”

“Okay, well—” He steps back from Arin and smiles at him, still embarrassed. “Swear that you won’t try to molest me in front of everyone and then we’ll see.”

Arin grabs his wrist and exaggerates a hand shake, eyes glinting deviously. “I swear on my life not to molest you in front of everyone.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“I’m gonna go get Suzy for a bit, alright?” Arin asks after a long moment of staring. “I think she’s with Holly and Ross.”

Dan’s mouth twitches, but he nods in agreement anyway. “Okay.”

 

***

 

The Grumps wind up at their table in the middle of the rest, with friends and family surrounding them. Dan sits at the front, with Arin on his left and Brian on his right. Suzy sits beside Arin, and then Holly, Ross, Matt, and Ryan. Nearby is Barry, as are Vernon, Brent, and Jack. Kevin is somewhere in the crowd, invited to celebrate with his old friends.

Ecstasy fills Dan when he realizes how big of a success the party is. Normally album releases from NSP would simply be celebrated with crazy parties with beer and nachos and games hilariously ruined by half-drunk guests, but he and Brian had decided to try something new this time. Dan knows very well that the afterparty is going to be wild on the verge of dangerous, and that this main party might even end up like that, but he thought it’s fitting, considering how quickly their newest album sold out. It hit higher on the Billboard charts than their previous four albums and the ratings had blasted through the roof. And with Arin celebrating with him, their hands laced together on the table, Dan knows he’s living one of the best seasons of his life.

Their table transitions from conversation to conversation, mostly circulating either around Dan and Brian and laughing at the stories of how they came up with their songs or the relationship between Dan and Arin. When the focus began shifting from NSP to dating, Arin’s hand had drifted to Dan’s thigh, where it stayed protectively on top of it for the remainder of the discussion. He also moved noticeably closer to the older man, and though near everyone in the room already knows of their relationship, Dan still gets embarrassed and gives Arin a shy smile every once and a while. And every time, Arin meets it with a wink and a smirk.

The music begins playing and guests start to trickle onto the dance floor as more and more people finish their dinner. Holly and Ross are the first at their table to leave hand-in-hand for the first slow dance in a set of many. Dan gives him a hoot, as does Arin. 

Sometime near the end of the first song, Arin nudges Dan and says with a flick of his brow, “Suzy and I are gonna go dance. You okay here?”

“Of course,” Dan automatically replies. “You want me to record?”

“Nah. I’ve got plenty of other better dances on my phone.” Arin claps a hand on Dan’s shoulder and stands up, pulling Suzy up with him. His wife smiles and slips her smaller hand into his, but Dan doesn’t miss the quick glance she gives him. It’s too fast for him to read it, though he’s sure it wasn’t ill-intended. Or intentional at all, for that matter. Her eyes are fixed on Arin’s cheek soon enough, and he bends down to kiss her forehead and say, “It’s your favorite song, right, honey?” And then they’re gone.

A twinge of pain stabs at him, making him inhale sharply as a tear comes to his right eye. Dan wipes it away quickly and turns away, looking for something else to focus on. To his horror, Brian is staring at him, evidently having caught the flash of vulnerability Dan failed to cover up fast enough. “Are you alright?” he asks, his eyes narrowing slightly, but not in a hostile way.

Dan clears his throat and nods, his fingers finding their way towards the edge of his empty plate. “Yeah,” he answers, thankful that his voice doesn’t give way. “I’m just gonna—”

“Dan,” says Brian. His voice is full of troubled warning.

Dan shakes his head and stands, still holding his plate. He changes his tone into a hopefully more energized and convincing one, saying, “Seriously, it’s okay. I know what I signed up for. He has a wife, and I’m lucky to even be dating him. I don’t care.”

Brian opens his mouth, the blatant lie clearly not lost on him. But he remains silent until he shrugs, “If you’re sure.” He looks across the table and jumps into a conversation with Ryan and the others.

Dan blows a stray wisp of hair out of his face and backs away from the table, doing his best not to look at the dance floor and instead remember what Arin had told him earlier: that the man obviously wanted to spend some quality time with him alone during the afterparty. Still, his self controls breaks when he’s halfway to the table filled with half-empty trays of food and his eyes are pulled to the wide space in the room occupied by twirling couples. His feet stop moving and Dan finds himself looking for Arin, for that glimpse of blonde-streaked-brown hair. He spots it a second later, and he has to clamp down on his feelings when he sees how tenderly he’s looking at Suzy. In an instant Dan is reciting the mantra he has created for times just like these. _Suzy is his. Arin is Suzy’s. I am not in control of him. Suzy is his. Arin is Suzy’s. I am not…_

By some miracle, Dan is able to fill his plate with some airy pastries and make it all the way back to his table without losing his composure. When he sits back down with the Grumps, he risks a look back at the dance floor, only to find that Arin and Suzy are nowhere to be found.

His brow creases and he straightens in his chair, looking around in confusion. Actually, Suzy is at another table, talking to some of her siblings. Arin isn’t with her.

Dan twists to the side before sinking down in his chair, a deep frown etched into his face. He disconnects so far to the point that when fingers brush over his shoulders and across his chest, locking around his collar, he almost shoots five feet into the air. “Looking for me?” Arin mumbles, beard tickling Dan’s ear.

Dan gasps and turns, almost colliding with the side of Arin’s head when he does. “I—Arin, don’t do that! Fuck you!” he exclaims, losing every ounce of hurt with each laugh. “Yeah, I was.”

Arin smiles and lets go of him, coming around the chair and offering his arm. He leans in and questions, “May I have this dance?”

Dan blinks, only now realizing that a new song is on. Familiar guitar chords ring through the speakers, indicating the start of this piece. He recognizes it immediately. “Oh, Ed Sheeran,” he smiles, reaching out and looping his arm around Arin’s. “I would be delighted.”

Pleased, Arin’s eyes crinkle around the edges with his grin. They walk towards the dance floor, each step leaving Dan slightly weaker than the last. Suzy catches his eye at the last moment, and when Dan reluctantly looks over at her, he finds that she’s waving at him with a huge smile. Guilt floods through him when he sees how happy she is for them, and suddenly he wants to run over to her and fall to his knees and beg her forgiveness for something she doesn’t know he’s done. But then Arin’s voice calls him back to the task at hand, and Dan decides to file the regret away for later.

“Put your arms around me,” Arin tells him, pulling him out onto the floor.

“I know how to slow dance, Ar. You don’t have to teach me,” Dan retorts, but not seriously. He holds Arin’s shoulder with one hand and places his other in Arin’s outstretched hand, shuddering when the other man grips his hip.

“Well, what if I want to?” They’re moving now, swaying with the beginning of the song. Their footsteps fall into rhythm with the other’s, and Dan relaxes with the familiarity he didn’t know they had. “What if I want to show you how to dance with me specifically?”

Dan locks eyes with Arin and chuckles through his nose. “I guess that’s okay.”

Ed begins singing, and Dan closes his eyes, letting the singer’s voice indicate his movement. Their position seems much too traditional and common for this moment, and Dan takes his hand out of Arin’s and whispers, “Just hold me? Please?”

“See? You do want me to teach you,” Arin murmurs back. He drops his arms and Dan raises his, sliding them around Arin’s neck as Arin places his around Dan’s waist. Their bodies are pulled closer together, and he only settles when he feels Arin’s breath on his face.

Their eyes never leave each other, and Dan realizes, startled, that he has never really taken the time to get truly lost in Arin’s eyes. He’s looked at him many times, yes, he’s been caught breathless by the deep brown and the intensity of the mocha-colored stare, but he’s never set aside time to just _gaze._ Without anything to distract him.

Dan is dimly aware of his mouth opening up slightly as he begins to hear less and less of the people surrounding them, his attention beginning to narrow until all he can see is Arin’s face so close to his. Arin’s eyes have softened, making the warm color glow even brighter. “Remember back on our first date, when you said you loved my eyes?” he breathes, bringing Dan against his chest.

Dan wraps his arms tighter around Arin and toys with a curl on the nape of his neck, pursing his lips to contain his excitement when the other man’s eyelids flutter momentarily. “Mhm. I still do. More, now, actually.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever returned the compliment.” Arin lifts one hand to place his fingers against the top of Dan’s face, affectionately brushing his thumb over his eyebrow. Dan’s throat goes dry and his breathing threatens to stop all together, wondering why this movement seems so much more intimate than any kiss Arin has ever given him. “Your eyes are gorgeous, Dan.”

The first chorus flows in softly around them, encasing them in a serene bubble all to themselves. Dan doesn’t how how to answer him, at least not with words, so he elects to shake his head and drop his forehead onto Arin’s. The younger man makes a little cooing sound in his throat and lifts his face, their lips touching but it’s not quite a kiss yet. They share the same space, the same oxygen, and it’s like time temporarily freezes just for them. Dan can hear the song in the distance, yet Arin’s heartbeat is so much louder. 

His hand is still on Dan’s face, and now it’s moving around to cup his chin and bring his jaw down. They breathe against each other for a few more seconds before Arin goes in all the way and captures him in one of the most surreal kisses Dan has ever found himself in. It’s like their first kiss all over again, but this time, it’s how it should be. It’s peaceful and quiet and the moment belongs to the two of them alone. 

Dan loses track of time until Arin breaks away. Only then does Dan realize his eyes were closed, and once he opens them, he discovers that the bubble must have popped because he can hear everything again. It’s significantly quieter than it was when they first began to dance, but maybe it’s just because of them. The song is almost over even though it’s felt like an eternity.

They’re still dancing, albeit rather slowly, turning in a very gradual circle more than anything else. Out of the corner of Dan’s eyes he can see people watching, recording, even crying. He isn’t sure why until he sees the look Arin’s giving him. When he says, “I love you,” Dan almost doesn’t hear him because he’s on the verge of sobbing himself. But the words still get to him, echoing in his ears and reverberating through his body and blooming in his heart. 

“I love you, too,” whispers Dan, and it’s the most genuine thing he’s ever said in his life.

 

-

-

-

 

_so you can keep me_

_inside the pocket of your ripped jeans_

_holding me closer 'til our eyes meet_

_you won't ever be alone_

 

**vii. midnight**

“You know, you’re the only person besides Suzy I would watch a romantic movie with,” Arin murmurs into Dan’s ear, nosing through his curls affectionately. The latter grins, closing his eyes halfway and leaning into Arin while he clicks various buttons on the remote. “And even then, I’m still debating whether or not I should let you play this.”

Dan reaches out with his other hand and finds Arin’s chin, pulling him in and stealing a kiss. He smiles and promises, “I’ll get the popcorn right now. Would that make you feel better, you big baby?”

“Maybe. But I’ll get cold,” complains his boyfriend, hugging Dan and almost knocking the remote out of his grip.

Dan chuckles and puts the device down after pressing play, letting Arin kiss and nibble at his neck for a few seconds before gently pushing him away so he can stand up. “Just give me a sec. You like kettle, right?”

“Surprise me.”  
“So regular butter, then,” Dan jokes, walking around the couch to his kitchen.

Arin turns in his seat and pops up behind the back of the couch, leaning on his elbows and calling, “Yes, kettle, you dickhead. Enough for both of us.”

“Like there was ever a possibility I would only get a bowl for you,” laughs Dan. He reaches into a cupboard for a bowl and then rifles through his pantry for the popcorn box. “I love you, but not quite that much.”

A few minutes later, after delivering the popcorn and beers and squirming around to fit their bodies together on the sofa, Dan lies comfortably against Arin’s chest, his head propped up on the larger man’s shoulder. Arin’s upper arm is slung around his hips and the other one is wrapped around his head, hand twisted into Dan’s hair. Every once and a while Dan reaches out to the nearby coffee table to grab a handful of popcorn, first giving himself some and then offering a second pile to Arin behind him. He giggles shyly when Arin’s tongue scrapes over his palm, looking for any stray kernel to lap up and licking Dan even when there is none. “You taste so sweet,” Arin mumbles once, noticing how much Dan clearly enjoys it.

The movie starts and manages to hang onto their focus for a grand total of no more than thirty minutes. Arin makes the occasional smartass comment here and there, adding on for comedic value and looking very happy with himself whenever he’s able to make Dan laugh—which is often, if not always. There’s an especially sappy part where Arin pretends to gag and drones on about the terrifyingly obvious cliche plot line for two entire minutes before Dan slaps his hand, in hysterics nonetheless. 

But eventually, despite Dan’s presence and warmth, Arin evidently begins to bore, because his hands start roaming. And that means a few fingers begin slipping underneath his waistband, a hand goes up his shirt, and he begins kissing Dan’s neck again. 

Startled, Dan pulls his hands into his chest and looks over his shoulder, trying to meet Arin’s eyes. “Yes? Are you enjoying the movie, Arin?” he asks, flinching when Arin finds his ribs and begins stroking the outline of the bones against skin. “Hey—”

“You can keep watching,” Arin mumbles, actually starting to pull at the hem of Dan’s pants. The older man’s heart begins to kick up the pace a notch, sending blood rushing into his face on overtime. “I’m just entertaining myself.”

“U-uh—okay,” stammers Dan, slowly looking away. He doesn’t budge, his body completely still even when Arin unintentionally begins to tug his shirt up his torso. A little sound escapes his mouth when he feels Arin bite and then suck an area on his neck near his jawline. The hand slips lower on his leg, pawing at his thigh under his pants.

A bead of sweat marks its way down the side of Dan’s forehead. Arin spends a lot of time on the hickey he’s made, still holding his boyfriend close to his body. The heat in Dan’s face drains through the rest of his body and starts to pool in his gut, the arousal getting stronger. His nerves start to kick into overdrive, causing him to gasp sharply when Arin’s hand suddenly squeezes his inner thigh. “Arin,” mutters Dan, biting his lip.

Even without seeing his face full on, Dan can sense Arin smirking devilishly under his chin. “Do you need something?” he purrs, sickly sweet. Before Dan can answer, though, Arin rushes on, saying, “You know, we’ve been dating for more than a year and a half now. And somehow I’ve never found the time to fuck you.”

Dan catches his breath, his body stiffening.

“Would you care to disrupt that trend?” Arin breathes seductively, right into his ear, his tongue flicking out to play with Dan’s earlobe.

“I—” A long, stuttered groan interrupts Dan when Arin’s hand snakes up his chest and pinches one of his nipples lightly. “I don’t—m-maybe…” And then Arin throws his leg over Dan’s, completely encircling him and trapping him flush against the larger man while he presses a single kiss against the corner of Dan’s lip. “Yes. Yes. Okay.”

It’s like a switch is flipped inside Arin, because his voice is completely different when he chuckles, “Fantastic,” and grabs Dan, turning him over onto his back. Dan can’t seem to remember how to breathe, his eyes wide as Arin wiggles out of his little area against the back of the couch to straddle him at the hips. He does his best to lay against the armrest, shocked by how strange it feels to be the one on the bottom. To be the person taken control of.

Arin wastes no time, bending over him and kissing him amorously. Dan responds instantly, reaching up and locking his arms around Arin’s neck, losing his control to the swift tide of desire that he falls into with the first touch of Arin’s lips. His mind dawns the familiar fuchsia and violet haze it always gets whenever he has sex with someone, but it’s slightly different now. It’s more pronounced, more entranced than lustful. Because Arin’s just that much different than everyone else. A different that Dan thirsts for.

Arin begins grinding against Dan, rubbing their quickly hardening erections together as the kiss deepens. Their tongues wrestle with each other until Arin finds a better pastime, sucking at Dan’s lips and pulling breathless moans from him with every passing second.

Within five minutes their shirts are discarded and their bodies are interlocked, arms and legs tangled together on the couch. Dan’s hair is being pulled and so is Arin’s, the movie long forgotten and drowned out by their gasping and groaning. Red marks make a line down Dan’s pale neck, and in return Dan leaves faint scratch marks up Arin’s back when Arin’s hands find his dick. He tilts his head back and gasps, bucking against Arin and squeezing his eyes shut. He never thought it’d feel this good, this overwhelming, this _right._ He’s moaning Arin’s name, crying out when Arin bends down to kiss his neck again.

First Dan’s pants are discarded and then Arin’s follows in a couple minutes, left on a heap on the carpet. They don’t break for anything, their momentum and passion and knowledge that this has been put off for so long and it’s much too late pushing them on and on. There’s something dark but beautiful in the way they match each other. Their breaths fall in time and their hips roll in a rhythm. Even their gasps come at evenly spaced times. Every inch of them, every curve and incline and dip in their bodies seem to exist just to fit the other. And somewhere, somewhere in a place where the craving for Arin can’t reach, Dan wonders if this is a sign they were always meant to live as one.

Still, despite this, Dan still fights the urge to cover himself when he eventually lies naked underneath Arin’s legs. It’s one of the only times where his confidence begins to falter, because he’s never thought so highly of another lover. They finally pause, just long enough for Arin’s eyes to drink in the sight of him and meet Dan’s at the end. He leans forward, fingers curling around Dan’s length hungrily. But his tone doesn’t match his actions when he tells Dan lovingly, “You’re perfect, Danny. I hope you know that.”

Dan reaches up for Arin’s face, watching the light of the movie catch on his eyelashes. “Only when I’m with you,” he struggles to get out. He doesn’t make any move to hide himself after that.

The short exchange is forgotten for the moment when Arin works him up again, first with his hands and then—finally, it seems, to Dan—his mouth. He makes sounds he’s never heard from himself before, surprised by his verbal and physical reactions and so glad it’s Arin that makes him discover them. He desperately longs for a way to repay Arin for the sensations he’s giving Dan, so it’s a no-brainer when Arin asks Dan if he can slip a few fingers inside of him to stretch him out. He agrees without hesitation, ignoring the fact that it’ll be the first time anyone, himself included, has done that for him. 

It’s mildly painful at first and he has to grip at the couch cushions, fighting to steady his breathing, but soon the initial discomfort begins to fade. He’s moaning loudly by the time Arin’s third finger enters him. His body arches steeply off the couch when Arin finds a spot inside of him that sends electricity coursing through his veins, materializing as a bead of precum on the tip of his erection. Once Arin realizes what he’s hit, he begins to slowly thrust his fingers in and out of Dan, gradually picking up the pace and making sure to make contact with Dan’s prostate each time. Dan’s groans and whimpers increase in volume until he’s warning Arin with a cry, knowing how close he is to falling over that edge.

The fingers disappear and Dan can breathe again, though he’s left with an intense need to come. He forgets it, though, when Arin crawls up his body and kneels at his shoulders, shifting his legs to take off his underwear and finally free his own huge arousal. Dan’s heart skips a beat when he realizes how thick Arin is and he makes no move to open his mouth, frozen by the challenge he’s signed up for. But then Arin’s hands tenderly surround Dan’s face, wiping the hair stuck to his face with sweat away and encouraging him with soft words. Gradually Dan works up the courage to nod and lean back, opening his mouth after wetting his lips.

He almost chokes the first time Arin eases himself into Dan’s mouth, even though he knows he’s not even halfway in. Arin pulls out, waiting for Dan to fill his lungs before pushing back in. This time Dan figures out how to angle himself properly, making it a little bit easier. Even still, he has to push at Arin’s thighs, begging for air. 

It’s better on the fourth time, when Dan holds still long enough for Arin’s length to bump against the back of his throat before he turns his head to the side, sucking in oxygen greedily. He’s ready when Arin begins getting a little faster, carefully fucking Dan’s mouth. When he gets 

accustomed to the pace, Dan is able to throw a little tongue into it, sucking whenever he gets the chance to. Arin’s legs tense whenever he does this and his face adopts a red hue, vibrant and scarlet even though the room is dark. Dan looks up at him, feeling dirty and sinful and privileged at all the same time when he sees the expression on Arin’s face. He knows his own face is a sight to behold: eyes half-lidded, lips swollen and bruised, cheeks flushed and hair tangled. 

When Arin begins to shake, his panting getting faster, he pulls out of Dan’s mouth with a groan. A chain of saliva connects Dan’s lips with the head of Arin’s dick until he closes his mouth, tasting salt on his tongue. 

Arin gets back down onto his elbows and knees to kiss him again, and Dan realizes he can’t figure out whether he’s tasting himself or Arin. A daze starts to muddle his mind but it breaks away when Arin does, and his excitement kicks back in as the younger man backs away tokneel between Dan’s legs. Arin grabs his thighs and puts them on his shoulders, lifting Dan’s lower body slightly off the couch. Dan raises his hands above his head to grab at the armrest, both trying to balance and brace himself for what he knows will come. 

A shudder races through his body when Arin sticks a few fingers into him, scissoring him lightly to keep him wide. Dan hardly hears Arin ask him if he’s ready, groaning out his permission.

He soon finds, however, that he is in fact _not_ ready at all for Arin’s length to enter him. Luckily it’s still slick with Dan’s saliva and the preparation Arin’s fingers had lent him keeps it from hurting too much, leaving Dan with the room to curl his fingers into the armrest and let out one long, strangled moan.

Arin takes it slow but his labored breathing tells Dan that he’s itching to do more. So he finds himself pleading, insisting that Arin go faster. And he does, more than willing to oblige, and within seconds they’re both panting and gasping and moaning wildly. Dan doesn’t know whether he should clench his teeth in the pain of getting fucked by another man for the first time or let his jaw drop wide, riding the waves of this new kind of pleasure. He chooses the second one when Arin finds his prostate again, his body on fire.

He rocks with the pace Arin sets, clawing at the couch and crying out when he finds the edge again. “A little longer,” he thinks he hears Arin gasp and he does his best to hold himself off. It proves almost impossible, though, when a hand wraps around his dick and begins to pump him fiercely while the other one presses down on his chest, keeping him flat against the cushions.

Dan is so tense, so close and so frantic that the second he hears Arin roar above him and a warm, sticky liquid fills him, he releases the last shred of control and comes into Arin’s hand and over his bare torso. He yells out when he does, his abdomen and hips and legs a straight diagonal line from the couch to Arin’s chest. Arin holds him while he shudders, with no regard for the viscous white stream running down his stomach whatsoever. When Dan finally collapses, whimpering and limp and exhausted, Arin slides out of him and all but falls on top of him.

They don’t speak for a good five minutes. The time is spent panting and sighing, their chests rising and falling together. Dan feels his own cum sticking between them, spreading when Arin moves around. He lazily finds Arin’s shoulders and clings to him. His eyes close and he hums when Arin affectionately strokes his head. 

Finally Dan speaks up, saying scratchily, “Th-that was…wow, Arin…you…”

“You were amazing,” Arin fills in for him, voice equally as tired and hoarse. “But—that was okay, right? I wasn’t too…rough?”

Dan shakes his head adamantly, laughing for no reason. “No. God, no, that was fucking incredible. Thank you. Fuck, thank you, I loved every second.”

Arin’s face relaxes, telling Dan that he had been quite worried about how much Dan was enjoying it. This brings forth an appreciation for his boyfriend that Dan had never felt before, and he does his best to lift his head from the armrest to kiss him gratefully.

“So, how about the movie?” Arin asks, lifting himself up on his elbows. Both men look at their chests, blushing at the threads of cum stretching between them. Dan can only imagine how much of a mess the couch is near his hips. “Never mind. Uh—sorry about your couch. I can clean that for you, if you want,” he offers.

Dan laughs again and hooks his arms underneath Arin’s, bringing him back down in a hug. “We can both clean it,” he suggests. A mischievous smile replaces his original grin when an idea comes to him. “How about we clean ourselves first?”

Arin is off him in an instant, springing off the couch and scooping Dan up in his arms. Dan bursts out laughing and grabs Arin’s neck, kissing his collar as Arin runs off in the direction of Dan’s master bathroom.

 

-

-

-

 

_and if you hurt me_

_that's okay baby, only words bleed_

_inside these pages you just hold me_

_and I won't ever let you go_

 

**viii. storms**

The pain begins to chase him into his dreams. Where once was happiness, now he feels bitterness—where he once smiled, he cries. Every night he’s aware of himself tossing and turning until he wakes himself up, and on certain bad nights, his throat is clogged and his pillow and face are soaked.

And what’s worse, Dan can feel the interactions between him and Arin feeling more forced. Perhaps it isn’t a mutual feeling (and for that, he’d count himself lucky), but it’s becoming tougher and tougher for him to receive his boyfriend’s affection. To return it, even. Since a month or two after they had sex for the first time things began to slowly go downhill. Dan grew more possessive. He began hoping for more, more, more. He could no longer enjoy the kisses Arin gave him, the times in the the office when Arin would lock them in the closet and make out until somebody came looking for them, the loving words he’d hear every so often when Arin felt particularly sweet. In the beginning those things were special—Dan was special. But something began to change within the last few weeks. He started to get jealous.

He knows very well he’s being unfair every time he breaks a kiss too early because he feels a sting or does nothing but smile and duck his head when Arin compliments him. It’s directed at Suzy, he’s known that from the start, and he’s hated himself every time he’s felt it. But now it’s beginning to tear at him, shredding him from the inside out, and Dan is losing control. It’s becoming so much easier to get mad, to scream into his pillow because Arin will never be his alone. It feels so much better to hate Suzy. And it terrifies him.

He’s doing it now, he knows it. He just twirls his fork in the spaghetti in the plate before him, flicking his eyes away from Arin’s whenever the younger man tries to hold his gaze. He itches in his seat, squirming under the stare he knows that is boring into his forehead, until Arin sighs, “Dan, what’s on your mind?”

Dan flinches, glancing up at Arin before focusing intently on his half-empty glass of water. A drop of water rolls down the side, making a line in the condensation that still ices the outside of the container. He knows that he should probably be trying to act right now, because it’s still his job to make Arin feel happy, but he just can’t.

Warmth covers his hand, and Dan quickly looks up when he realizes Arin is holding his hand across the table. He internally curses himself when he accidentally meets Arin’s eyes, because he’s immediately caught in that stare that forces him to stay put. And he knows, in that moment, that he can’t lie anymore. Not with the way Arin’s looking at him, not with the confusion and hurt written all over his pained face. But he certainly can’t tell him now, in the middle of a five-star restaurant filled with people chatting softly under candlelight. So all he mumbles is, “Not here. Later, okay?”

Arin hesitates, the expression of unease only seeming to grow stronger. But he purses his lips and nods, squeezing Dan’s hand. “Only if you promise to talk to me.”

Dan looks down, swallowing hard. “Sure,” he chokes out, stuffing the fork into his mouth to keep him from having to say anything more.

 

***

 

Arin drops him off at his house, and neither of them say a word as they walk to Dan’s door. When Arin opens the door for him, letting Dan go in without him, the latter almost dares to think that maybe he’ll get away without a confession tonight. He turns around, a goodbye on his lips and his hand on the doorknob, but his hopes are crushed when Arin shoves his body into the doorframe and slaps a hand against the wood before Dan can shut him out. “Hold on,” Arin says in a low voice, his eyes drilling holes into Dan’s. “I think you still have something to tell me?”

“Fuck,” Dan blurts, unable to hold it in. He steps back, covering his mouth with one hand, looking guiltily away. 

Arin frowns. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He shoulders the door all the way open again and Dan keeps backing up, letting him shut it behind him. His heart drops into his stomach when he watches Arin turn the lock and walk up to him. Blood runs cold through Dan’s veins when Arin touches his face, brushing over his cheekbones and across his forehead. “You know, you seem to have this crazy idea that you can hide things from me.”

Dan wrinkles his nose, biting his lip and getting hot without even thinking about it. “It’s been working well enough so far,” he hears himself say. He winces, figuring he’s just about admitted to everything. “It’s really not important.” Even though it absolutely is.

Arin snorts. “Bullshit. You know I don’t fall for that,” he murmurs, his voice getting gentle again with his last few words. “I can take it, baby. Talk to me.”

A boiling hole had begun burning its way into Dan’s chest when Arin called him baby, and it only gets worse with each second Arin stands there, gazing at him confidently. He shifts and rocks on his heels, feeling like a deer caught in a pair of headlights. He knows he can’t dodge this conversation, because Arin will keep insisting until he tells him what’s wrong. He can’t lie, because Arin knows him too well. He can’t change the subject somehow, because Arin is just too smart for that. No, the only thing he can do now is fess up.

“Can you?” says Dan at last, trying to stall for a few more seconds to figure out a polite way to tell Arin that he’s beginning to resent his wife and wants him all to himself.

Arin’s brow creases. “Just say it,” he presses, beginning to look uncomfortable, too. But the determined look doesn’t fade. He even begins to lean in, thumbing at Dan’s bottom lip reassuringly.

“I-I—” Dan closes his eyes and shakes his head, pushing Arin’s hands away and planting a hand on his chest to stop him from getting closer. “Don’t—please don’t touch me, right now, alright? I…” He breathes in shakily, wishing his knees would stop shaking so hard. “Just, back up. I’m sorry.”

Arin recoils, trying and failing to not look wounded. “Is it something I did?” he asks, a hint of desperation spilling into his words. “Tell me what I did, Dan—I can make up for it. I swear—”

“No, no, that’s not it at all. It’s not you. It—it’s me, it’s completely me. Actually, no, that’s…a lie.” A growing sense of fear starts to clutch at Dan, and he becomes unspeakably anxious. “Oh, God.”

“A lie? Why? There’s another person, isn’t there?” Arin pauses, and then gets very quietly. “Are you seeing someone else? You—you can tell me. I won’t get mad, or anything…”

“I’m not seeing someone else,” Dan exclaims, squeezing his eyes shut and feeling frustrated and terrified and hopeless simultaneously. “It’s—it’s…”

He pauses, inhales deeply. Everything goes silent when he finally admits in a defeated tone, “It’s Suzy, Arin.”

Arin’s face immediately darkens. “What about her?” he questions, sounding like he can’t quite figure out where Dan is going with this. “Dan…”

“I’m jealous,” Dan confesses, his voice strained. He can’t stop now. “I’m jealous of her, I’m getting more possessive—I know it’s not fair but I don’t care, and I know I signed up for this when I started dating you but—fuck, Arin, I just want you to myself and I don’t know what to do—”

“You know I still love her too,” Arin interrupts, deadly soft.

“I know that! But—how am I supposed to coexist in a world with her? In _your_ world? I have to share it too! I find the one person who I’m actually willing to spend my life with, and I have to _share_ that life?” Dan pauses, on the verge of tears because he’s finally letting out weeks of restless nights and silent screams all at once. “Arin, I can’t do that! I—I had this stupid idea that we were meant to be, and for _so_ long I thought maybe—”

Arin butts in again, and this time, he has the exact tone of voice that Dan never wanted to hear. “You’re asking me to divorce my wife, to let go of at least fifteen years worth of a healthy relationship, to forget everything I’ve ever known about her for you?” he asks incredulously. “That’s insane. You know that.”

“I don’t care,” spits Dan. Something comes over him, something that convinces him to jump on that wave of anger he’s pushed deep inside of him for so long. He lets it surge through him and lets words he would never say in his right mind fly out of his mouth. “I thought I was different. I thought I was someone you would make exceptions for. Every time you said you loved me, every time you kissed me, every time you did anything kind for me ever—it never fucking meant anything, did it?”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Arin retorts, trying hard to keep his cool. “You know that I—”

Dan pays no mind to Arin’s irritatingly justified words. “I could never be your only focus. No matter what I do for you, it’s never gonna be enough.”

“Dan!” shouts Arin, his eyes wide and his hands in fists. “I decided to date you _despite_ already having a full-blown wife _because_ I love you! Fuck, I shouldn’t be doing of this shit for you in the first place!”

“Then why do you?”

“Because you do mean something to me! I thought I’ve made that very clear! Are you trying to make me choose between you and Suzy?”

“Yes! No!” Dan grabs his head by his hair and turns away, breathing in deeply and wishing the tears swimming in his eyes would just go away. “I don’t know! I don’t know, Arin—”

“So then what are you trying to tell me? What do you want from me?”

“I don’t—I don’t want anything,” Dan answers, a sob jumping into his throat. “I’m just—I said I’m jealous, alright? I can’t keep doing this with you, kissing and holding hands and having sex and calling each other boyfriends when in reality you belong to someone else! It—it hurts, and it’s not fair to me. To keep feeling like this!”

“I’m the one with the double relationship,” retorts Arin, crossing his arms and clenching his teeth. He refuses to meet Dan’s eyes now. “I’m the one who should be confused. Not you.”

Something like a bolt of lightning courses through Dan’s body, and a plume of redness obscures his vision as he steps back, forgetting everything he wanted to say. Now Arin refuses to meet his eyes. Indignation radiates from his very being and makes Dan want to turn tail and run into his room and shut the door on all that has happened. “Are you…” Dan forces down a cry. “You’re telling me I shouldn’t be in pain?”

Arin doesn’t say anything, but he does look back up to make eye contact with Dan. However Dan forgets ever wanting Arin’s eyes on him because they’re on fire, anger and regret and irritation and pleading smoldering like a dying star. “I’m not saying any of that,” he says. His steady tone is more terrifying than any shout. “I’m just saying that you’re out of your mind. I’ve done more than you could ever imagine just to be with you, but I have priorities. Suzy is my fucking wife. You know she’s entitled to me before you.”

Hearing Arin say that up close in person has far more impact on Dan than any thought of the same phrase ever could. A hot tear burns its way down Dan’s cheek and drops onto his collar before he speaks again. “I can’t share you,” he whispers timidly, pulling his hands to his chest and backing farther and farther into the house. Arin makes no move to come closer, choosing to stand and stare at him without a word. “I don’t know how.”

Perhaps seeing Dan suddenly so submissive and small changes something in Arin, because all of a sudden his face clears and his arms drop to his sides, angled slightly towards the older man. Quietly he sighs, “Dan, maybe we can—”

“Don’t,” Dan snaps, suddenly cold. “Just go.”

Arin freezes. “No, hold on, Dan, c’mon. We can figure something out.”

“Get out,” repeats Dan in a louder voice.

“I don’t want to leave you like this—”

“I could never do this with Suzy in the picture. I wish I realized that sooner. It hurts too much.” Dan sniffs, fiercely wiping away a tear before Arin notices it. “Go away.”

Arin looks like a fish out of water, opening and closing his mouth multiple times before he gathers himself and says emotionlessly, “Okay.” When he turns, Dan thinks he sees moonlight from the window glittering on something wet on Arin’s face, but he’s gone before he can tell for sure. The door is thrown open and slammed shut, leaving Dan in a silent, empty house with a situation much worse than it had been.

_He just left,_ Dan thinks, stumbling two steps towards the door. _He didn’t even try._

But he’s the one who pushed Arin away first, wasn’t he? 

He wants to cry and scream at the world. He wants to wonder how this incredible thing became something so painful.

Until he realizes he doesn’t feel anything but a yawning emptiness within him.

 

-

-

-

 

_wait for me to come home_

_wait for me to come home_

_wait for me to come home_

_wait for me to come home_

 

**ix. dawn (reprise)**

“You need to go outside,” Brian tells him over the phone for the hundredth time. “Dan, for me. You’ve been inside for at least a week. That’s not healthy.”

Dan chugs down the rest of the beer remaining in the glass bottle and sighs heavily, covering his mouth as he burps. “Uhuh,” he mutters, tossing it to the carpeted floor with a _thump_.

“Do you want to talk to me?”

“No.”

“Have you talked to anyone?”

“No.”

“So you’re just planning on stewing in your goddamn house, isolating yourself from all your friends and skipping every Grump recording and vocal lesson without any sense of remorse?”

“…That sounds alright.”

“Dan!” 

Dan winces at the sharp increase in volume, holding the phone away from his ear to let the ringing subside. “Don’t yell at me.”

Brian exhales, clearly exasperated. “I don’t know what happened between you and Arin, man, but you’ve gotta talk to him about it. Because, fuck. This isn’t good. I’m worried about you—we’re _all_ worried about you. You’re, like, the backbone of us all.”

Dan snorts, dragging himself off the couch and into his kitchen. He throws open the refrigerator and scans its shelves even though he knows there’s nothing to be found. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“At least go for a walk, okay?” Brian pauses, and Dan hears some incoherent audio in the background. Brian shouts something in response away from the phone. Then he comes back, saying, “I need to go. But I’ll be checking in on you later tonight. You can do this, buddy.” The line goes dead.

Dan frowns and throws his phone across the room, watching it hit the other couch and bounce across the cushions. He sinks back into his seat, groaning loudly and throwing his feet over the armrest. Then, after a moment’s thought, he gets back up and walks over to the other side of the room to retrieve his phone and open up his playlist. He finds the one labeled **For the Storms** and hits play before dropping it on the coffee table and flopping back into his former position. Bastille begins to play, and Dan closes his eyes, curling up in a limp ball on the sofa. He might be crying, but he can’t tell anymore. Within a few minutes, he dozes off.

It’s dark when he wakes up again, and the phone is silent, the playlist having long ended. There’s grogginess in his eyes, which disorients him momentarily because he feels heavy. He blindly fumbles for his phone, reaching out from the couch to the table and throwing his arm around. Unfortunately Dan overextends himself and he crashes to the floor, letting out a loud “SHIT!” on the way down.

When he finally does get a hold on his phone, he checks the time. It’s around 9:00, telling him he’s been asleep for nearly seven hours. “Perfect,” he grumbles, swiping through his notifications. Countless missed calls and texts from Brian. That’s to be expected. A few from Matt and Ryan. Some emails on the NSP account. And then Dan stiffens, because buried underneath everything, so hidden and random that he almost skipped right over it, are nearly forty texts from Arin. All in rapid procession, every one of them sent within about two minutes.

Dan stares at the notifications for about a minute or two before he clears them all, numbly dropping his phone back onto the table. At the beginning of the afternoon he hadn’t wanted to leave this house; now that’s all he wants to do. To get away from this phone and away from everything Arin wants to say.

He stands up swiftly and makes his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and yanking it harshly over his arms and back. He slips on his shoes and exits in a whirlwind, not even bothering to lock his door. The night breeze rushes over his face and he breathes it in without thinking. He hadn’t had fresh air in what feels like an lifetime.

Dan hurries down his driveway and turns onto the sidewalk. He falls into a brisk pace, not caring where his feet take him. It’s nighttime and it’s quiet and he loves it and hates it at the same time, because now he finally has no excuse to get distracted. Now he can think. 

The orange glow of the streetlights line his path down the street. He watches his shadow sharpen and fade like a rhythm as he passes under each light. It’s chilly, it’s getting windy, but it doesn’t matter.

_I let him go,_ he thinks, shuddering as a car rushes by. _He’s gone. Gone forever._ But then another side of him jumps to life, saying sharply, _But he has Suzy. It wasn’t like he ever really needed me. The way I needed him. Need him._

_Will he come back? Why would he?_

_There’s no reason for him to._

_But he still cares. I know he does._ Maybe that’s where he went wrong, assuming that. _He told me I meant something to him._

The abyss returns with a vengeance and Dan falls into it, not even trying to hang onto the edge. He almost welcomes it, in a way. It’s so cold. It’s so empty. He feels lost but it’s a feeling he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t even mind the way his mind is turning and turning in so many circles, bringing him back to the same point every time: _he doesn’t need me._

Dan passes over a bridge a little ways outside his neighborhood, taking him over a busy highway full of lights and sound. He stops, suddenly very lonely, and leans on the edge with his elbows. The left lane is lit with white and the right with red, and Dan watches as the cars below hurtle past. He wants to leave that quickly, too.

He turns away before his feet can start entertaining the idea to climb up on the edge and then let the wind take control. His pace is faster than before.

The street he enters is much darker than the last one, shaded over by thick trees near the edge of the sidewalk. The sounds of the highway become more distant until they disappear all together, leaving Dan alone with the crickets. He listens to them chirp exuberantly with a blank expression because he remembers when he and Arin had listened to them chirp once. They had been in the woods out late; it was a similar night, but they were together. Arin had grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek, saying something about how it’s really just the sounds of thousands of insects mating with each other. And Dan had laughed, like he always did, playfully slapping Arin and telling him to shut up and let him enjoy it. So Arin pulled him over to an empty patch of grass and laid on his back, urging Dan to do the same. They spent the next hour in each other’s arms, lying beneath the trees and listening to the crickets and counting stars and kissing each time they heard a squirrel rustle in the leaves.

Dan tastes salt in his mouth and he realizes he’s crying again. It’s a real cry, this time, not the single tasteless tear he had let out when he shouted at Arin. It’s one that opens up his lungs and sneaks between his lips even though he’s really not trying to stop it anymore. It feels good to let it all out, especially since he figures there’s no one around to hear him. He cries out and shouts and does everything he wanted to do before. The deep remorse and shame encompasses him, wrapping him in a suffocating blanket of sadness and he lets it. In fact, he wants it to. He wants to feel the consequences of what he’s done. He wants to regret it, and he does. So, so much.

He walks as he sobs, though he tries to hide it more when the street takes him into a more active area. There are a few buildings around this part of the area and a few cars begin to zoom by again. At least no one will recognize him this late.

Inside the anguish, a raw, red hatred begins to bubble up inside of him. His tears get angrier and angrier and so do his fists. His nails begin to dig into his palms, yet Dan can’t feel it. He’s furious now—but it’s not at Arin. It’s at himself. He’s mad at himself for shouting at Arin and he’s mad at himself for being so envious and unwilling to compromise. Arin had been willing to help him out. He even said it. But Dan forced him out without thinking about it because he was so caught up in feeling sorry for himself. He can’t even begin to think of any possible way to make up for that show of unbridled recklessness. 

Dan yells out again, his heart breaking at how pitiful and sad the cry is. Fresh tears cascade over his chin and drip onto his shirt. His vision becomes a mixture of blurred colors and lights. He walks on blindly, stumbling carelessly in his grief. He trips once and barely catches himself, but he doesn’t even notice the falter. Not until an outburst of loud, obnoxious sound explodes in his head, viciously ripping him out of the gray sea consuming his thoughts and launching him back into the real world.

His head clears with a jolt and he blinks, not fully registering the car swerving towards him at a speed much higher than allowed. However, his muscles are already reacting and diving towards the side with a shriek tearing from his mouth. Something slams into his lower calf and ankle and his body is abruptly thrown to an angle, sending him careening towards the edge of the road much harder than he wanted to. He hits the asphalt hard and rolls multiple times before he rests on his back, forgetting how to breathe. He stares disbelievingly at back lights of the car that had just clipped his foot. The smell of its fumes washes over him with the rush of wind it brings, and Dan just lies there, chest heaving irregularly and his heart beating so fast he can’t seem to supply it with enough air. His entire body throbs madly, but the worst of the pain is centered in his arms, joints, and chest. His right foot is on fire and Dan grimaces at the mere thought of having to walk on it. He can’t think straight, dizziness having settled over him seconds after he was hit.

“He hit me,” Dan wheezes, still on his back. He has to take many breaths before he can talk to himself again, and even then he still needs more. “He hit me.” _I could’ve died. I could’ve died. I could be dead._

_I could be dead and the last thing I told Arin was to go away._

And that’s all he needs to make up his mind.

“Oh my God!”

Dan sits up sharply, shouting out loud when the movement irritates a number of minor injuries. He grabs his forehead and squints, making out a figure running straight towards him from a car parked sloppily about fifteen feet away. It ends up being a girl, who looks very alarmed and worried. “I saw it hit you! Oh my fucking God, are you okay?” she asks frantically, kneeling beside him. “Holy shit, oh my God—”

“I’m okay,” Dan coughs, rubbing his chest and holding his ankle, testing it gingerly. He has to clamp his teeth down on his tongue to avoid screaming at the bright red stars that fill his vision when the pain scorches him.

The girl doesn’t seem to know what to do with him. Her hands hover over his body helplessly, until she settles on gently resting them on his shoulder and knee. She looks him in the eye, frowning deeply and studying him intently. “I—I can get you to a hospital, let me just—” She lets go of Dan, pulls out her phone, and opens up her keypad. “Hold on—”

“No, stop,” Dan finds himself saying. The girl looks at him, startled. She hesitates just long enough for Dan to continue, “I’m fine. Seriously. I don’t…need a hospital.”

“But your ankle…you must’ve broken it, at the very least! You need to get someone—”

Dan reaches up and places a shaking hand on top of hers, looking at her as steadily as he could to convince her he’s not hurt as badly as she thinks. He gives her a forced smile and says firmly, “My ankle isn’t broken. I’ll be okay. I promise.” Then, after a moment’s thought: “But I do need to be somewhere right now, if that wouldn’t be too much to ask of you?”

“Of course!”

 

-

-

-

 

 

_you can fit me_

_inside the necklace you got when you were sixteen_

_next to your heartbeat where I should be_

_keep it deep within your soul_

 

**x. warmth**

They pull up at the front of a darkened house about forty-five minutes later. Dan now has his ankle wrapped tightly in an Ace bandage and is covered in about thirty bandages head to toe—Emily (whose name Dan had been eagerly informed of) had insisted on getting him, at the very least, cleaned up. She turns to him from the front seat and asks him skeptically, “You’re sure this is the right place?”

“Yep.”

“Do—do you need me to help you to the door?”

“No, I’ll manage.”

Emily nods and looks away, still quite worried. “Alright, well. I’m very glad I was there to help…”

“As was I,” Dan says, turning to smile warmly at her. “Thank you for all your help. From the bottom of my heart.”

Emily grins shyly, not meeting his eyes. “Well, don’t go running into anymore cars, okay? You could’ve died.”

“Believe me, I know.” Dan pauses, and then leans across to give her a small embrace. She returns it a little too quickly, forcing him to pull away before he gets distracted. “Thank you again.” 

She nods again, blushing hard, and unlocks the door for him. It’s a struggle, but Dan manages to open the door and ease himself out onto his good foot without too much pain. He shuts it and gives her a wave, standing in place as Emily backs out of the driveway and into the street. She lingers for a few seconds, clearly watching him, but drives away soon enough.

Dan sighs and faces the house, his knees knocking together again. He limps forward, pushing his lips together each time he shifts his weight to his right foot. But somehow he reaches the front door and, after a long minute of standing and doing nothing else, knocks on it hard.

Two minutes pass, and nothing in the house stirs. Dan pulls his sleeve back to check his badly cracked watch for the time. It’s barely later than 10:30. Even though it’s still midweek, Arin should still certainly be up now. Dan knocks again and steps back, wondering for a brief, horrifying moment if he’ll have to find another way home. But then he resolves to sleeping on Arin’s front porch if he has to, and the fear slips away even though he knows how absurd the idea is. 

Luckily, this time he hears footsteps, and he has little more than three seconds to compose himself before the door creaks open and Arin’s form fills the gap between the slab of wood and the frame. He looks sleepy and his hair is tangled on one side. But his eyes clear up instantly when they find Dan, and his face morphs into a mask of confused surprise. “Who—Dan? What’re you…” His gaze travels down to his ankle, and then back up to his face. When he sees the bruises and scrapes all over Dan’s cheek, his mouth drops. “What the _hell_ happened to you? Are you okay?”

The immediate sense of protectiveness and worry Dan is welcomed with finds a chink in his armor and he can’t hold himself back any longer. He lunges at Arin and throws his arms around him, ignoring the sharp pain. He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t say anything. He just holds onto him tightly, trembling badly. Arin is frozen for a second, but he returns the hug just as intensely, rocking Dan back and forth in the doorway. Dan inhales deeply and turns his head, hugging Arin harder than he ever has before as if he’ll never ever let go. He doesn’t want to. Not now, not ever. Even though he knows he must, at least to explain himself. Then maybe, just maybe, if Arin forgives him, they can cuddle again.

Eventually Dan begins forming a sense of what exactly he came here to do, and soon he starts whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Arin, I never meant to say what I did. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Stop,” Arin tells him in his ear, pressing his face against Dan’s. A familiar warmth radiates through his cheek. “It doesn’t matter to me. It’s okay.”

“Arin,” Dan breathes, swallowing a sob.

“Yeah?”

Dan shakes his head and just keeps murmuring Arin’s name until the younger man pulls him into the house and soundlessly pushes the door close with his foot. He grips Dan’s lower back and cups his ass with his other hand, but before Dan can jump, Arin hoists him into the air, grunting as he does so. He must’ve noticed Dan’s ankle.

_Oh,_ Dan thinks.

He keeps his arms secured around Arin’s neck as he is slowly carried into the living room, trying to breathe in copious amounts of the smell of the fruity shampoo on Arin’s hair. He is tenderly deposited on a couch, and even then he does not let go of Arin until Dan’s hands are directly lifted away from him. He stares up at Arin, not sure of what to say.

Arin watches him for a bit before running a hand through his hair and sitting beside him. His arm automatically goes to slip around Dan’s shoulders but he wavers momentarily, then dropping it. Hurt crawls through Dan’s body until he reminds himself that Arin is just as torn as he is. 

“So, Dan—”

“No, hold on,” Dan says before Arin can continue. He needs to be the one to say what he wants to first because he’s the one who started it all. He’s the one who needs to apologize. “Please just listen to me. And don’t talk? Until I’m done?” 

Arin looks mildly apprehensive, but he nods in silence.

Dan sighs and hugs himself, examining his ankle for a few seconds as he gathers his thoughts. When he glances back up at Arin, he finds the younger’s eyes trained on his face, agonizingly patient. “I’m sorry,” he begins, his voice already getting thicker with emotion. It quivers terribly with each word, threatening to give way with his anxiety. “I’m sorry for getting jealous, for shouting at you, for unreasonable. I’m sorry for kicking you out. God, I was so fucking awful to you and I don’t blame you for hating me since I know you do now but all I really wanted to do was tell you how sorry I am because look at me,” he chokes out, gesturing at himself. “I can’t even talk to you without—tearing up anymore—” 

Dan hiccups and shields his eyes, his shoulders shaking. “I’m the worst,” he says weakly, staring at his hands. “This never should’ve happened.” 

Wetness splashes onto his hand and pools in the crevices of his palm, flooding over when more droplets join the first. They’re wiped away, though, when Arin grabs Dan’s hands and says, “Look at me, Dan.”

He does reluctantly, afraid of what he will see. But where he expects irritation and coldness, compassion and a fierce yearning takes its place. An overjoyed smile is on the verge of pulling Arin’s smile from ear to ear, and his eyes are sparkling with tears. 

“Arin—” Dan tries to say, but Arin’s voice forces a strange sort of quiet over him.

“I made mistakes too, Dan,” he whispers, clutching the elder’s hands with a need. “I didn’t try to understand you and I am so sorry for that. It’s my fault too, and I literally have not slept for the last week because I feel so guilty. That’s, um, actually why I was down here. Suzy’s…been having to sleep alone,” he adds with a quick, apologetic quirk of his lips. “But—that’s not the point. I’ve stayed up all night, every night, just thinking about you. I got so worried. I was gonna apologize, too, but I never worked up the courage to because _I_ thought you hated me. The way you made it sound…I thought you were…” He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing sharply. Just by looking at his face, he’s dangerously close to losing his composure. “Breaking up with me?”

Dan bursts into tears at that moment, adamantly repeating the word “no” over and over again while pulling Arin forward to hug him again. “No, no, never, Arin,” he cries into his neck. “Never. Fuck, I would never. I swear. I never meant for you to think that. I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave you. Please believe me.” 

He’s pleading by the end, and won’t loosen his death grip on Arin until he feels him nod against him. The younger man is shivering uncontrollably against him, nearly crushing Dan’s thinner body with his arms. He’s much more quiet about it, but Dan knows he’s crying too when he feels the tears wetting his neck. He doesn’t say anything, and neither does Arin. Not yet.

The first change in posture comes about two minutes later, when Arin’s hands leave Dan’s back and neck to slide across his body and meet at his face around his cheeks. Dan pulls back, finding Arin’s nose brushing against his in their proximity. He becomes nervous all over again but steadies himself, securing a hold around Arin’s neck.

Arin’s thumbs absentmindedly rub at him while his eyes tell Dan a message of a thousandunspoken words. He can feel their breaths alternating with each other, and the violent trembling in Arin’s hands and limbs. Dan gazes back, and the tiny smile that Arin spots gives him all the incentive he needs. He pulls Dan in and he’s all too happy to oblige, helping himself get closer as their lips crash together.

All at once, all of those metaphors of love being like a fire or a candle being lit finally makes sense to Dan. For all his songs, all his supposed knowledge of love and sex and passion, he has never once experienced this burning before. Because when Arin kisses him, the sorrow and heartbreak and despair prominent in the beginning slowly starting to get replaced with something sweeter, it truly is as if someone struck a match inside of him and set it against a pile of kindle. Everything around him disappears and he’s floating in the air with nothing but the man beside him.

And he is so, so happy.

Around his cheeks Arin shakes even harder and the kiss gets deeper, a reflection of the younger man’s own inner conflict. His hands abandon Dan’s face for the rest of his body again, wriggling underneath his arms to tug him closer. This thirst for physical contact, of course, confuses Dan when Arin abruptly breaks the kiss a minute later with a gasp.

Dan stares at him, wondering if he had done something wrong. He had thought this was a situation where they would part for a few seconds, just long enough to say “I love you” to make up for everything and kiss again. “Are you okay?” he asks, tense. “Did you…was that not…”

“I need to give you something,” Arin responds, his mood changing drastically. He looks shy, almost embarrassed, now. “Will you wait here?”  
“Okay,” Dan says uncertainly, watching Arin as he gets up. His eyes follow the man as he backs away slowly, biting his lip before turning around to run into a hallway across the room. Dan waits alone, the seconds becoming uneasy minutes. 

He had been playing with a stray thread on the couch long enough to work out nearly fifteen inches of it when Arin emerges from the darkened corridor, one hand behind his back. “Close your eyes?” he asks, preventing any questions from being spoken.

Dan hesitates, and then closes his eyes, awaiting Arin with a tentative curiosity. He hears Arin come closer to him, and he jumps when Arin says, “Hold out your hands.”

He does so without question, itching to open his eyes. He waits for the longest five seconds for his life before he hears the rustling of plastic. Then his heart drops all the way into his shoes when something small, hard and velvet is pressed into his hands. He doesn’t dare breathe, doesn’t dare say anything, and he almost doesn’t want to open his eyes even when Arin tells him to.

Slowly Dan peeks open one eye, and then the other one, and takes in the sight of a simple black box sitting in the middle of his palms. He stares for a good, long second before dragging his eyes up to Arin, who is looking expectantly at him. He’s fidgeting, definitely on edge, and urges, “Open it.”

Dan doesn’t look away from Arin when he fingers the edge of the lid. It can’t be a ring, he knows that for sure. Because of that, he has no idea what to expect. When he finally works the clasp open, opens the case, and sees the gift inside, he has to cover his mouth with his other hand to keep himself from let a cry slip out.

It’s a simple gold chain running through a beautifully carved heart encrusted with a single diamond in the middle of it. When Dan flips the charm over, he’s just able to make out tiny letters writing out: **always and forever.**

But that isn’t what makes him tear up, no matter how incredible the necklace is. Instead, it is the photo that is tucked inside the lid, held by the fabric lining, with an all-too familiar selfie of their very first kiss, almost two years ago, taken at the movies, displayed on it. 

Dan takes one look at the picture and it’s as if a vacuum draws all the air out of him. His hand around his mouth only gets tighter as he whimpers, having to close his eyes to let the moisture escape. “Oh my God,” he mumbles into his hand, opening one eye to look at the picture again, then up at Arin. “Arin.”

He looks like a thousand pounds had just been lifted from his shoulders. The worry is gone, and an unspeakable affection and delight sits in its place. Arin leans forward, explaining with a smile, “I bought it for you a couple weeks ago. For our second anniversary, actually. I didn’t know if I should wait to print that picture until a later year, but I just couldn’t wait. I was afraid to, actually. Anyway…I just thought I should give this to you now. I’ll, um, find something else to give you.” Arin stops to take a breath, and the sense of timidness returns again.“Because…I love you, and I’ll never stop loving you, like…like it says. And that I forgive you, even though there was nothing to forgive. Can…you do the same?”

“Of course,” Dan blurts, finally removing his hand to touch Arin’s face gratefully. “Of course, yes, I forgive you. But it wasn’t your fault.” The next few words come naturally. “I love you, too.”

Arin’s smile gets even wider. “Will you, um. Will you let me put it on?”

Dan nods quickly and hands the box over to Arin, who delicately takes it out of the case, making sure he doesn’t disturb the photo. He stands to walk around Dan so he can sit behind him. Chills race down Dan’s spine as Arin places a hand on the nape of his neck and moves it upwards, pushing his thick hair out of the way. Then Arin uses his forearm to keep Dan’s hair up while he pulls the chain around the front of the elder’s neck and gingerly works the clasp. Dan sits as still as he can, fingering the charm sitting in the middle of his chest. He turns it enough for one of the lights still on in the living room to catch on the diamond and glint in Dan’s eyes. “It’s beautiful,” he murmurs, pursing his lips.

“I hoped you would think so,” Arin replies. Dan’s hair falls back down to its regular place when his boyfriend removes his arms and stands up, smiling proudly down at the taller man. “There you go. And fuck, it looks even better on you than I imagined it would.”

Dan reddens, grinning and shifting his gaze. “I never imagined you’d give something like this to me in the first place, Ar.”

Arin sits in front of him and places two fingers on his chest, walking his fingers up to Dan’s chin and bringing a faint laugh from the latter. “Only the best for you,” Arin hums, scooting forward and resting his forehead against Dan’s.

Dan smiles and holds him happily, getting drunk off of the rush of adrenaline stemming from the overwhelming success of his apology. “Thank you,” he sighs, nuzzling Arin’s head. “Thank you. I love you so much.”

Arin plays with Dan’s lip, chuckling when the elder yawns. “Would you like to sleep here tonight, baby?”

Dan looks up. “Will, um…will Suzy…”

“She won’t mind,” Arin promises. “She feels bad about you, too. If you’re okay with it, she may want to talk to you tomorrow morning. But yeah. You’re safe here.” They sit in a thoughtful silence until Arin comments quietly, “Y’know, I didn’t think you’d actually come, tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

Arin frowns and caresses Dan’s cheek as he inquires, “You didn’t see my texts?”

A bit of awkward laughter drifts from Dan’s lips. He glances away from Arin, blushing. “Oh—oh, that was…oh. No, I-I didn’t. Check.”

Arin is quiet, making Dan get a little uncomfortable, but after a moment he chuckles, “I probably shouldn’t have expected you to. It’s alright, then. You made your way here anyway. And—I am taking you to the doctor’s for an x-ray tomorrow, no questions asked. You better tell me what in fuck’s sake happened to you tonight.”

Dan nods, smiling, and bends forward, comforted as he makes Arin’s body his pillow. He touches the charm and strokes not the diamond, but the words on the back of it, feeling the ridges and bumps under the skin of his finger. “Of course, Big Cat. Thanks again. For…everything.”

Arin’s voice cracks when he responds. “Anytime, love.”

 

-

-

-

 

_and if you hurt me_

_well, that's okay baby, only words bleed_

_inside these pages you just hold me_

_and I won't ever let you go_

 

 

**xi. twilight**

Three years pass. Three long years.

They don’t have an argument nearly as explosive as the one about Suzy ever again. Since then, thanks to Arin’s encouragement and assurance, Dan had come to his wife and confessed everything. Suzy had admitted to having similar feelings, but hers weren’t nearly as bad because she had suspected that Arin had feelings for Dan long before they began actively dating. She had been able to come to terms with that before it became a reality. 

After they spoke and Dan apologized to her, she offered to work things out with all three of them, and they had come to a sort of understanding. It might’ve just been that all of his emotions and conflicts had finally gotten released, but regardless of what the cause of it was, Dan felt infinitely better walking away from the conversation. He also unlocked another part of him that allowed him to love Arin even more: the desire for him to be happy, no matter what the cost for Dan personally was. Thanks to that, he is uplifted now rather than disheartened when he sees Suzy and Arin share a kiss or hold hands without him, because he knows how happy Arin is. Even if Dan isn’t the one bringing that beautiful smile to his face all the time.

Hundreds and hundreds of new photos have been added and deleted shortly after being printed and hung up somewhere around Arin’s and Dan’s houses alike. The ones they replace are removed with care and set in a case that is shared by both men. Dan never removes the necklace he was given that one fateful night. On the day of their actual second anniversary, he finds the opportunity to return the favor and gifts Arin with a similar chain. 

They leave footprints all over the world in the following years. Suzy lets them head off to Japan again—the two of them alone, this time—for the week of their third anniversary before joining them for more countless international trips. They spend a month in Western Europe and, later, head down to Australia (after much coaxing—insistence—from Dan). During their trip in Europe, Dan even manages to strike up a deal with a restaurant in Paris and plays waiter one evening during their European trip for Arin and Suzy. He’s rewarded handsomely for that humble show that night after Arin convinced Suzy to spend an hour at the pool. The following morning, Suzy disappears for an early morning walk, and all she leaves is two cup of cold coffee and a sticky note with a message scrawled on it: **got some complaints from the room next to us. you loud-ass dickheads.**

NSP scores another high-ranking album and Dan entertains the idea of another formal party, but settles on the more traditional wild celebration. He does, however, slow dance with Arin a couple nights after, when he invited Dan to a gazebo in a dimly lit park. They hold each other and kiss to the rhythm of music that never played, twirling to the lyrics of a song they never heard. And Dan never forgets that night, especially since Arin sends him a picture of them dancing in the gazebo from a distance, taken by somebody he had commissioned. The photo is framed beside his bed, right next to the open necklace box proudly showing off the movie selfie.

Three beautiful, incredible years.

It’s the longest positive streak Dan has ever experienced, and he never got the time to worry about the end until it comes. It comes in the form of a cough that plagues Dan for weeks and weeks, one that he tries to hide from Brian and Arin which only dooms him. It’s only discovered when he skips one too many practices and accidentally wheezes one too many times during recordings. He doesn’t know he’s been found out until Arin walks in on him spitting blood in the bathroom. That’s the end of his supposed secret.

It comes in the form of a frantic doctor’s appointment, followed rapidly by an x-ray. Fear and pain begins to torture Dan every waking moment, and thoughts of darkness began to encroach on his mind. He’s scared.

It comes in the form of five small, short words. Five words solemnly delivered to him in a sterile room bathed in light that’s much too bright and the scent of antiseptic. Five words spoken by a man in white with a somber expression who just couldn’t meet his eyes: 

“It’s lung cancer, Mr. Avidan.”

And with that, the three years end for Dan. The days of fun and games and kisses and love have never seemed so far away. He becomes a different man while he begins to watch the threads of his world come undone. The pieces of the puzzle that Arin had so lovingly put into place begin to fall apart, and within the week Dan is ruined. He loses himself and he’s not sure how, exactly, but so soon there’s already a chunk of him missing. One night he listens to Let Her Go by Passenger and he almost kills himself choking on his laughter at the irony. The laughter quickly transforms into earthshaking coughs that pierce his body and spears his abdomen and head until he doubles over, on the verge of passing out.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell the Grumps the news, so he finds someone else to. He can’t bring himself to tell Arin personally. Instead he turns to Brian, which is hard enough. When everyone finds out, Dan has to excuse himself from the room because the heaviness of the sorrow in the atmosphere is too much for him to bear. When he sees Arin again outside of the meeting, he can tell the man is trying very hard to stay strong for him. He stops Dan before he can say anything and is already explaining the plan for treatment and outlining timelines, and it’s all Dan can do to find hope in his words.

The visits to the hospital get more and more frequent. Because of Dan’s decision to hide it until it got intolerable, he had allowed the cancer to progress faster than it would have. It’s already in its third stage and rapidly nearing the fourth. The doctors had told him that it seemed to be more of hereditary cause than environmental, though his distant history of smoking might have also begun to irritate the cancer cells in the past. His age is also determined as a factor, and his immune systems are beginning to stop working as hard. Dan doesn’t have time to brainstorm reasons why he’s suddenly terribly sick, because his schedules are now always full, much to his displeasure.

He can’t remember the last time he recorded a proper Grump session.

Talk of surgery circulates for a few days until they decide that it would be ultimately ineffective in the long run, due to the advancement of the cancer cells, and a pointless cost. So the idea is trashed and new ones come up concerning chemotherapy and radiation. Dan rarely ever talks during these times, letting his friends do the explaining and calculations for him until he gets fed up and leaves again, time after time. 

His house is never cleaned anymore. It’s always dark and dusty and silent except for the constant coughing. He can’t seem to find the strength or the will to make his quarters even a little more fresh. When Arin finds out about the state of Dan’s house, he throws a fit for about ten minutes before calming down and offering to get someone to clean it for him or do it himself. He bluntly invites Dan to stay with him when the elder declines the proposal, not wanting anyone to have to deal with his problems. It takes some time, but eventually Dan agrees to live with Arin after he’s promised that his symptoms wouldn’t disturb anyone. Strangely enough, his lack of sleep becomes a silver lining within it all, because many times when he leaves the guest room for water or medicine, he finds Arin lying on the couch, waiting for him. Dan always downs the cup of hot tea already sitting on the coffee table before getting onto the sofa with him, curling into his side and trying to keep his coughing to a minimum. He sleeps better those nights, under Arin’s arm. But he does his best to restrain himself to his bed, because he knows Arin is suffering from the irregular sleeping schedule.

Chemotherapy begins. Dan grows accustomed to the corridors and walls of white. The pricks of needles against his skin. The looks of sympathy he receives almost daily, now. It’s scary at first, but eventually Dan learns to accept it. He always thinks of Arin whenever he goes in, scrolling through pictures that have long cemented themselves into the back of his mind so as to distract himself from his treatment. Whenever he gets back home to Arin and Suzy, he makes a beeline for Arin’s room and waits, completely still on his bed until the younger man finds him. His boyfriend never says anything, knowing exactly what Dan needs and embraces him, whispering to him when Dan begins crying until Arin starts crying, too. 

The weeks drone on and on, and Dan finally gets a number. Ten months. He has ten months to try and fight this off. That’s when they decide to put him on radiation therapy along with the chemo. The costs begin to take a toll on their everyday life, and Dan longs for the days of Game Grumps and NSP with a heart-wrenching passion. He misses singing. He misses laughing. He misses talking. He misses those three years, and all the years before then. One night, Arin surprises him, coming into his room at around one o’clock with a guitar. He sits on the edge of Dan’s bed and begins to play. He’s already tearing up when he realizes that the song coming from the guitar and from Arin’s lips is the exact same song they slow-danced to a millennia ago.

For a while, radiation therapy actually proves to be quite effective. It’s awful, it’s monotonous, and combined with the chemo, it’s exhausting. But it gives Dan and Arin and everyone else a shred of light for the first time in a long time. He has a reason to smile, and the brightness on both Arin’s and Suzy’s face when Dan actually makes a joke one day makes the pain worth it all. Brian invites the whole group over and they have a nice old-fashioned Game Grumps party. Dan even finds it in himself to pick up a microphone and sing for everyone while Brian and Arin man the instruments. Everyone is on their feet and cheering by the time the last note fades.

Dan and Arin find time to go out on dates again, trying to cram months’ worth of nights and kisses and gentle touches into a collective week. If anything else, Dan’s cancer has given him a chance to view life from a different angle, and he’s pleased when he discovers that he genuinely enjoys every second he spends with his boyfriend. The gazes last longer and when they kiss, neither of them want to part for anything. There’s a darker current running underneath their affection for each other, though: as the ten months begin to slowly tick away, the risk of them not being able to kiss one another again gets higher each day. So even when they’re around other people, they never let go of each other’s hand, clinging to each other for the life they have. 

Life is bearable during that brief pocket of hope. Somehow, it’s no surprise when the hope disappears and Dan’s health plummets into an even deeper downwards spiral once the radiation therapy suddenly stops working. It’s as if it was filling up a gauge in Dan’s body and remained effective and efficient until that gauge reached its capacity, and treatment after that just bounced off of him without reward. He’s left to deal with the side effects on their own, and it physically hurts him to see the distress on Arin’s face when he refuses the smallest plate of food because he knows it’ll only come back up in the toilet five minutes after. He’s lost at least twenty pounds already since the beginning of treatment, and five or so pounds soon follow when he stops eating. The coughing and vomiting gets so bad that Dan’s lucky to get six hours of sleep for a week.

The timer on his life shortens by three months.

He knows they don’t think he’ll live.

And, privately, he thinks the same thing.

 

It’s a sunny afternoon when Arin finds him sitting on the couch positioned to look outside. Dan’s face is ashen and his cheeks are sunken in, and he looks like a completely different man when he turns to look at Arin blankly. The younger man stops in his tracks to stare back, and it’s like all the sadness in the world is trying to drown him at once. Dan attempts to smile for Arin’s sake. “Hey, Ar,” he rasps. His voice is almost always hoarse and quiet, now.

Arin’s tone is light and fragile, so close to breaking completely. “Hey, Dan…what are you, um. What have you been doing?”

Dan licks his lips, wishing for some liquid. “Can I have some water?” he asks instead of answering, feeling bad for the request even though Arin is already moving. He only coughs once in the time that it takes for Arin to fill a glass and hand it to him, and he drinks it greedily, thanking Arin with his eyes when he empties it in one go.

Arin watches him, sitting on the cushion besides him anxiously. He takes the glass from Dan and puts it on the side, looking at him all the while. “Are you okay?” he murmurs after a moment, reaching out to take Dan’s cold hands in his. 

Dan wrinkles his brow, knowing that Arin knows how stupid of a question that is. Of course he’s not okay. But at the same time, he knows that Arin is, in reality, asking a different question. He shrugs, focusing on the warmth of Arin’s palms. “I don’t know,” says Dan, finding it hard to meet Arin’s eyes. They’re both so shattered, so sad and so ill, in their own different ways. “I don’t know how to feel anymore.”  
“Try?” Arin begs. “For me? Just…tell me how you think you feel.”

Dan looks out the window. His eyes follow a pair of squirrels chasing each other around the backyard. “Scared,” he chooses finally. “I’m scared.”

Arin’s grip gets tighter. “Yeah?”  
Dan nods and looks back at Arin. “It’s…kind of a lonely scared,” he admits. “Even though I know you’re right here. Which helps. But at the same time, it doesn’t.”

“Why not?”  
“Because…” Dan lifts the other man’s hands to his face, where he rests a trembling kiss on Arin’s knuckles. “‘Cause I don’t want to leave you here.”

Arin comes in close, his face pleading with Dan. “Don’t say that. You’re not gonna leave me here, okay? You’re gonna be okay, and you’re gonna live, and things will go back to normal,” he insists. “You’re not gonna leave me, Dan. I’m not gonna let you.” He draws in a shaky breath and lets out a little sob, his nails beginning to dig into Dan’s hands. “I won’t let you leave me. You _said_ you wouldn’t leave me. I’m still holding you to that, you know.”

Dan smiles at him sadly, leaning in to give him a kiss that Arin doesn’t immediately return in his pain. Against Arin’s mouth, he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

 

-

-

-

 

_when I'm away, I will remember how you kissed me_

_under the lamppost back on Sixth street_

_hearing you whisper through the phone,_

_"wait for me to come home."_

 

**xii. new moon**

Waves lap at water’s edge, pushing and pulling rhythmically. A chilly breeze rushes in from the gray ocean, rustling through their hair and in the cattails in the thick bushes lining the way to the coast. White sea foam dots the sand for a few seconds before it fizzes out of existence. Somewhere to their left, a seagull crows as it searches for something to eat.

The beach is empty besides Dan and Arin. It isn’t an ideal day for swimming, anyway, considering the overcast skies and the cold temperatures. But it’s ideal for them, because Dan’s days are so few that chances are, with his luck, he could probably count them using one hand.

They had removed him from chemotherapy shortly after stopping radiation when it became clear the possible rewards were nowhere near worth the side effects and misery it was putting Dan through. His body ached and throbbed with pain that sometimes got so bad that it temporarily incapacitated him and kept him confined to a bed in a stuffy room. The decision to relinquish all treatment was easily the hardest conclusions Dan had ever been forced to come to. He was giving up the slim possibility of living for a guaranteed end of his torture. It wasn’t like he was going to survive in the first place—he realizes now that he was never supposed to heal. It was all for show, all for the false hope that maybe, by some miracle that was never going to happen, he would recover.

Arin spent every waking moment with him after the decision was set in stone. His face was almost never dry when he was around Dan. Suzy let him without hesitation. She checked in on them periodically, sometimes just to make sure Dan was still alive. When Dan finally decided they needed a change of scenery before his time was up, it didn’t take much convincing for him to comply with Arin to go to the seashore for the first time in his life. “You should see it at least once,” Arin had told him with nostalgia lacing his eyes. “I want to take you.” _You’ve have nothing to lose,_ his face added.

So Dan traveled here with Arin, the couple driving nonstop. The journey was shorter than normal, since most people wouldn’t be traveling to the beach in the middle of October. When they found that the small beach was vacant, waiting just for them, it was like a perfect dream come true.

Dan inhales, still clutching his knees to his chest. It may not be good for his horribly deteriorating lungs, but it’s not like his health could be much worse. And the tang of sea salt is strangely fresh and reinvigorating on his tongue when he opens his mouth, letting the mist of the ocean spray hit him. Intermixed with the smell of Arin on his borrowed sweatshirt and directly beside him, holding him to younger man’s wider body, Dan feels a peace he hasn’t experienced since he was told he had cancer.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Arin marvels, looking out at the horizon. “It’s gray, right now, so you can’t really enjoy it, but…you should see it in the summer. It’s gorgeous in the sun.”

Dan knows what they’re both thinking. That there’s no possible way he’ll make it to next summer. He might not even make it to tomorrow, let alone next week. But for Arin’s sake, he pretends he will. “It is,” he agrees. “How does it…how does it look in the summer?”

Arin flashes him a quick grin, the closest he will get to true happiness now. He explains, “Well, for one thing, it’s, like, hella blue. And the sun—it, it twinkles on the waves, y’know? It’s all bright and happy and it’s _warm_ and all kinds of people come here.” He gestures at the empty swaths of sand surrounding them. “Some people play music in their tents. And then there’s all kinds of volleyball games that people just _join_ sometimes. There’s people surfing and swimming all the time. Don’t get me started on the camping trips…”

Dan listens to him, his small smile gradually getting wider. He loves the energy mounting in Arin’s voice, correlating with the passion the man clearly has for the beach. He hears the longing, the wish for Dan to see it with him even though Arin doesn’t vocalize it. When Arin has to stop to breathe, Dan says, “It sounds incredible. I’d love to come back with you.”

Arin’s breath catches. He reaches out and takes Dan’s chin in three of his fingers, gently turning the older man towards him. Dan kisses Arin tenderly, taking the time to taste him and let the memory of it reinforce itself. He traces Arin’s cheek with one hand, letting his fingers trail down the contours of his boyfriend’s face. With the other hand Dan strokes Arin’s hair, wondering how he had never realized how soft it is, before holding onto the back of his head. When he begins to taste salt on Arin’s tongue, Dan opens his eyes to see silent tears rolling down the other man’s face.

“I’d love that, too,” Arin mumbles, leaning away to stare into Dan’s eyes. “Promise you’lllet me take you here again?”

Now it’s Dan’s turn to lose his breath. “I promise,” he chokes out. 

Arin nods, blinking furiously. He wraps his arms around Dan and Dan does the same as he says, “Good.”

They continue to watch the waves rise and fall, swelling with the tide. It begins to get a little colder, but it only gives them an excuse to hold each other tighter. Dan rests his head on Arin’s shoulder and keeps breathing in deeply. For once, he’s not coughing. Nor does he have any inclination to. It’s a final gift from the universe in return for all the suffering it pushed Dan through, allowing him to enjoy this one last hour of tranquility without interruption. He mouths a silent _Thank you._

“Are you still afraid of the ocean, Dan?” says Arin when a gull glides in front of them. 

Dan lifts and drops his shoulders, thinking about his answer carefully. “Not really,” he replies. “But only because you’re here. And because you make it sound so amazing.”

Arin laughs a little. “That kind of reminds me of you, you know.”

“How’s that?”

“I had no idea how beautiful you are until I took a chance,” answers Arin. “Just like you took a chance coming with me here. I went for it, and I’ve never regretted a thing since.”

Real, genuine contentment spreads through Dan’s tired body. “I wish I didn’t wait so long.”

“Me too.”

“I was scared.”

“So was I.”

“But it worked out, didn’t it?”

“In every way, Danny,” affirms Arin, kissing his head. “In every possible way.”

Once again they lapse into silence. Dan is aware of the clock in his heart, erasing seconds from him with each passing moment. He wonders how many more seconds he has left. Then he wonders how much he has left to tell Arin, only to find that the list is infinite. He doesn’t have time to tell him how happy Arin makes him just by being there, how much he loves the way Arin snores through his nose at night, how overwhelmingly thankful he’ll always be for that one day, five years ago, when Arin told him he shouldn’t be afraid of a dying relationship. And he supposes that that’s exactly what he’s faced with now, only it’s so much different than he expected it to be.

He decides he might as well start talking now if he wants to say as much as he can before he can’t speak anymore. “At first I loved your eyes,” Dan begins, making Arin twitch a little with surprise. When Arin gives him a questioning look, he smiles. “And then I loved your lips. And then your hair, and then the way you’re still scared of spiders. I always loved your laugh. I always loved the way you can make me smile. The way only _you_ can make me smile. I started to figure it out during the first year I recorded with you, because there was something different about you that I just couldn’t put my finger on. I know what it is, now. And I realized it’s not really a _thing,_ exactly. It’s more of…who you are. All of you.”

Arin’s eyes begin to widen when he starts to understand what Dan is saying, but he doesn’t get the chance to interrupt because Dan keeps confidently pushing on.

“I never really let myself hope that you’d become more than a business partner and a best friend to me. But maybe that was my biggest mistake, because I could’ve been this happy so much sooner. At least…” Dan takes a shuddering breath. “At least I didn’t die without discovering what we could be together. At least I got to see the shore with you, like we planned that one time, remember?”

Arin’s voice is almost lost in the wind when he breathes, “Of course I remember.”

Dan smiles faintly. And then he pushes past all the fake conversations they held, reaching deep within himself and voicing the reality that they both knew they couldn’t avoid forever. “You won’t forget me either, right, Arin?”

“Not a chance,” Arin blurts without even having to think about it. “There’s not a universe that exists where I could forget.” He doesn’t speak anymore because he’s too busy kissing Dan and pulling him into his lap.

With every second their lips touch, a tiny piece of Dan’s energy drains from his body. His mind goes into overdrive, working twice as hard to remember what it feels like to kiss Arin. He hangs onto every whiff of cologne and every barely noticeable pull at his sweatshirt and then his significantly shorter curls. He stores away the feeling of little nibbles at his lips and counts the times their noses bump against each other’s faces. The waves roar louder and louder until it’s deafening and all Dan can hear is the sounds of the ocean and the ringing in his ears.

He’s struggling to keep his eyes open when Arin pulls away from him and vows, sobbing, “I promise I’ll keep you alive, Dan—I’ll never take our pictures down. I’ll remember everything we’ve ever done, okay?”

“Put the photo with me, okay?” Dan asks softly. “And gardenias.”

“Tons of gardenias. All over the place.” Arin can hardly speak now.

Dan is fading fast. He can feel his breath slowing, and he rushes to keep talking. “Tell—tell Brian thank you, and Suzy, and Ross…”

“I’ll tell everyone. I’ll tell them all.”

“Okay,” he whispers. His lungs expand a little less with each breath. 

Arin is waiting restlessly, staring at Dan unwaveringly. “Anything else?” he pushes, just wanting to hear Dan speak again. “Dan?”

Dan sucks in oxygen, forcing them into voice. “I love you, Arin,” he gasps. “I love you more than anyone else in the world.”

Arin kisses him between breaths, stumbling over his words. “I love you, too, Daniel. Always and forever and ever and ever.”

Dan wraps his entire body around Arin’s, doing all he can to fend off the intruding, bitter cold that he knows isn’t anywhere but inside of him. He’s terrified, but at the same time, it’s okay. Because Arin is right there, holding him, and he knows he’ll never let go. The idea sets him at ease, and he calms down enough to find his last few breaths.

“I’ll see you soon, right, Dan?” his boyfriend chokes, his grip like steel.

Dan pulls back and cups Arin’s face. His vision is dimming, but he doesn’t need sight to see the man he loves before him. He feels their necklaces touch each other, the matching charms symbolizing a bond that transcends this broken, sick world. Dan inhales one last time, filling his ruined organs with the smell of the sea and of Arin. “I’ll wait for you forever, Big Cat,” he swears, pressing his lips against the other man one last time.

He lets the kiss distract him as the air slowly, slowly, slowly abandons him, surrendering him to the darkness he had fought for so long. Now he’s ready for it, and he walks into it voluntarily, knowing full well that he had accomplished what he needed to do. But Dan looks behind him one more time, long enough to feel Arin whisper one last “I love you” against his lips. It’s enough to make him smile into the kiss he can no longer sense, but he knows Arin can. He lets go of his breath, along with his life. 

And finally, finally, finally, Dan finds serenity. 

A million miles away, a man cries out to the ocean with his lover limp in his arms.

 

* * *

 

_They hold a small ceremony in a local church a couple weeks after Dan’s death. It’s held outside in the courtyard abloom with bushes and bushes of gardenias, flooding the air with its sweet fragrance. Dan’s body is held in a loaned casket made of polished birch, and an arrangement of roses from Arin lies on the center. A single printed photo rests nestled in the flowers, and a chain with a golden heart with words engraved on the back hangs from the stems._

 

_Arin scatters Dan’s ashes on the shore he died on two days after the funeral._

 

_He sobs all the while._

 

_But as he watches the dust disappear with each pull of the waves and each current of the wind, he knows he’ll be okay someday. Because Dan is. And really, that’s all that matters._

 

_The necklace sits in its little velvet box in the living room, right beside the framed selfie and the picture of the gazebo. A vase of gardenias stands right behind it. Not once does Arin’s own chain leave his neck._

 

_When he finally finds the courage to pull out that case of replaced photos, Arin sits near the little memorial while he stares at the printed pictures. He laughs. He cries. He mourns._

 

_One day, when everything is alright again, he’ll see Dan once more._

 

_But right now, all he has are the photographs._

 

-

-

-

 

_END_

**Author's Note:**

> I am so fucking sorry for this. 
> 
> Special thanks to @poppedparaz on Tumblr (or 093119 here on AO3) for help on some canon details in the story and for inspiring it in the first place. In fact, thank you to anyone on Tumblr who encouraged me and helped me write this giant thing instead of quitting halfway through. Apologies for how it turned out in the end... >w>
> 
> EDIT 10/23/18: I AM REWRITING THIS FIC AND REPOSTING IT! Set to come out sometime this month :)  
> EDIT 11/25/18: Second version is done, will be publishing either by the end of November or the beginning of December.  
> EDIT 11/27/18: REVISED VERSION CAN BE FOUND HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740394

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [wait for me to come home (revised)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740394) by [abyssith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abyssith/pseuds/abyssith)




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